


Mountain Ridge Camp for Boys

by timetogoslumming



Series: Camp Mountain Ridge [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, M/M, Trans Character, honestly all of the newsies are in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 62,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetogoslumming/pseuds/timetogoslumming
Summary: David was just looking for a summer job when he applied to work at Mountain Ridge Camp for Boys. He had no idea how much would change. For the first time in his life, David is part of a brotherhood, but not everyone is on the same side. !javid !sprace !more? idk?!?!





	1. Welcome to Camp Mountain Ridge

“David Jacobs, right?” an older, balding man asked, looking up from a roster.

“Yeah,” David replied. The man thrust a stack of papers at him, followed by a binder with the Camp Mountain Ridge logo on the front.

“Info packet, employee handbook,” he man said boredly. “Fill out the forms, bring them back to me, and then go to the conference room. We’ll start orientation in twenty minutes.” David took the forms and found a seat in a waiting area where a few other guys were doing paperwork. They were in the admin building where the camp housed its offices. The forms were pretty standard- name, birthdate, direct deposit information, et cetera, and David finished quickly, handing them back to the older man, who he now noticed was wearing a nametag that read “Mr. Weisel- Assistant Camp Director”. Mr. Weisel took the papers back without a word and jerked his head in the direction of the conference room. 

Inside the room, a dozen or so guys were all talking loudly amongst each other. A short, burly guy and lanky blond kid were engaged in a fierce card game with several onlookers, and a tall guy wearing a camp tshirt sat on top of a table, loudly recounting a story to the boys near him, which they apparently found hilarious. They all looked to be around David’s age- mostly late teens or early twenties- college age. David took a seat at an empty table and quietly opened his handbook. A slight, younger looking boy with an open, friendly face across from David noticed him and grinned. “Hey, a new guy,” he announced loudly. 

The conversations around the room died out as the people gathered there appraised David. The only people still talking were the two playing cards. The lanky one slapped his hand on the table and yelled “Ha! Gin!” and the burly one scowled. 

The tall guy on the table grinned easily, a slow, lazy grin. “Hey, new guy. What’s your name?”

“David,” he replied.

“Got a camp name?” asked the lanky kid with the cards as he shuffled them.

“I… what?” 

“Camp name,” the table guy repeated. “Most of us don’t use our real names here. It’s not required, but it’s fun. That’s Race,” he said, jerking his head toward the lanky kid. “And I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Is Jack a camp name?” David asked.

Jack nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah. It’s short for Jack’o’lantern.”

“Jack in the box,” said the boy with the kind face.

“Jackrabbit,” another guy supplied. 

“Jack… you know, like a car jack? Like you jack up a car?”

Soon, they were all throwing names out, before the short, burly guy held up a hand. The room fell silent. There was something commanding about his presence. The guy waited a minute before saying in a thick New York accent, “Jackass.” The boys gathered there laughed, and Jack shook his head. 

“Really, though, Jack’s just my name,” he explained. “I had a camp name but I picked it out when I was fourteen and frankly, it’s stupid.”

“What is it?” David asked.

“Cowboy,” Jack said, visibly cringing. “Anyway, no rush. We’ll figure something out for you during training.”

By this time, a few more guys had arrived. Most of them were apparently returning staff, and were welcomed back into the fold immediately, but a couple of new staffers had wandered in, and were now dealing with introductions. At one point, a guy with an eyepatch swaggered in, and a tall black boy wearing a tie-dye tshirt stood up and swiftly crossed the room to him. “Blink, my boy!” the tie-dye guy boomed as they hugged, slapping each other on the backs. 

“Yo, Mush!” the eyepatch guy, who David heard was named Blink, laughed. 

“What happened to your eye, Blink?” Jack asked. It almost sounded like he was goading him.

“I’m glad you asked, Jacky. Terrible, really. Mauled by a bear,” Blink said solemnly.

“Wait, really?” David sputtered. 

Almost everyone in the room laughed. “Yeah,” the boy named Mush said seriously. “Blinky’s got real bad luck. Last yeah, someone shot him in the eye with a crossbow.”

“And the year before that, it was… what? Poked out during a street fight?” Race added.

“Yes, boys,” Blink replied, maintaining a poker face. “And let us not forget 2014, when I traded it away for one night with a beautiful girl.” 

“No one knows what happened to his eye,” the boy across from David said. “He makes up a new story every year, to tell any kids that ask. I don’t think even Mush knows, and they’re best friends. I’m Crutchie, by the way.” It was only then that David noticed a single crutch propped against the wall behind him. 

Mr. Weisel stuck his head in then and looked around the room, zeroing in on Jack. “Jack!” he barked. “I’m just getting finished up. Go through bunk assignments.”

Jack saluted and hopped down from the table. “Alright, guys. I’m gonna make this quick, cause we got stuff to do.” He sauntered over to a whiteboard, which he flipped over to reveal a list of names and cabins. “Cabin assignments are pretty typical. We don’t stay in cabins with the kids, but if you’re a counselor, your cabin will be right next to the kids’, within earshot. There’s a new batch of kids every week, but you stay in your cabin all summer. 

“Counselors, if you need anything, go to your unit leaders, and if they can’t handle it, come to me. ULs and program heads, come to me or Race.”

**Cabin Assignments:  
Manhattan: **Jack- Head Counselor  
Crutchie- Art Director  
Race- Program Director  
Oscar- Archery Lead  
Morris- Equestrian Director  
 **Brooklyn:** Spot- Aquatics Director  
Lifeguards: JoJo, Boots, Dutchy  
 **Bronx:** Kitchen Staff: Henry, Bill, Darcy, Pie-Eater  
 **Queens:** Equestrian Staff: Finch, Skittery, Tumbler  
 **Harlem:** Mush- Unit Leader  
Counselors: Buttons, Sniper, Snitch  
 **Woodside:** Blink- Unit Leader  
Counselors: Snoddy, Mike, Ike  
 **Flushing:** Specs- Unit Leader  
Counselors: Romeo, David, Albert, Elmer

All of the cabins, David noticed, were named after areas of New York. He looked around, trying to figure out who his cabinmates were. Already, his head was spilling over with names. Specs, he recognized, was wearing thick glasses that seemed to magnify his eyes. Albert and Elmer were also new counselors, but the way they were talking made it seem like they had gone to Camp Mountain Ridge as kids, and David still had no idea who Romeo was. As for the rest of the staff, he remembered Blink, Mush, Crutchie, Jack, and Race. Mike and Ike were easy to identify, although not easy to tell apart- they were identical twins. 

Weisel came back in in a few minutes, followed by a tall man who looked to be about fifty. He indicated for everyone to take a seat. “Gentlemen,” the man said in a booming bass voice. “My name is Joe Pulitzer, and I am taking the position of camp director this summer. I understand that you all like to use camp names, but you may refer to me as Joe or Mr. Pulitzer. I hope for us to have an enjoyable, but more importantly, safe and successful summer here. Camp enrollment has been dropping slowly but steadily for the past few years, and under my leadership, we will get this place turned around.”

Pulitzer droned on and on for what seemed like an hour. Most of the guys weren’t paying all that much attention, but Jack hung on his every word, eyebrows slightly furrowed. He kept going on about camper and parent satisfaction, return campers, word of mouth marketing. All of which was completely valid. But Jack had been coming to Camp Mountain Ridge since he was ten years old, and he knew something that the newer guys didn’t. 

Camp enrollment wasn’t dropping. If anything, it was up. He had seen the rosters for the summer, and they were almost all completely full. There would even be a few weeks when they would need to bring in cots for extra bunk space. So why lie?

Jack mentally scolded himself. He was just comparing Pulitzer to their old camp director, Drowsy, who had left to run a chain of YMCA camps. Drowsy had been an amazing director and an amazing boss. But they just needed to give Pulitzer a fair chance. It would be fine.

They delved into the rules of camp, most of which were pretty obvious. No drinking on the property. No drugs. Yes, Mush, in this case, marijuana still counts as a drug. If you smoke, you have to do it in the approved area behind the break cabin. But the number one rule, the one that almost everything found its way back to, was that they could never ever be alone with a camper. It didn’t matter if it was a seventeen year old CIT or an eight year old who just wet the bed. This was for the staff’s safety just as much as it was the camper’s. 

“Any questions?” Pulitzer asked. He had kind of a drill sergeant air about him.

The new kid, David raised his hand. “My little brother’s coming as a camper for a couple of weeks. Does the rule still apply?” 

“No exceptions,” Pulitzer replied. “Not even for little brothers.”

They finished going over rules, discussed paydays, company insurance, and other boring details, and then Pulitzer closed his handbook, which was lying open on the table in front of him. He motioned to Jack, who already knew the training schedule by heart. He wrote it, after all. “Alright, guys,” Jack said, standing up. “That’s all we got for right now. You’ve got two hours to move into your cabins and hang out, maybe explore the camp a little bit, but be at the art hut by three for crafts orientation. You can drive down there, but you’ll need to park in the staff lot behind the lake when you’re done. We don’t have room for a bunch of cars all over the place.”

All the guys got up to go to their cars, while David collected his suitcase from the entranceway. He didn’t have a car- his sister, who worked at the girl’s camp across the lake, dropped him off. He really wasn’t looking forward to dragging it all the way to his cabin, wherever it might be. As David started to drag it down the stairs outside, Jack the head counselor caught up with him. “Do you have a car?” Jack asked.

“No,” David replied. 

“I’ll give you a ride to your cabin,” Jack said decisively.

“Oh,” David said. “That’s okay. You don’t need to-”

Jack shook his head. “Dude, it’s eighty-eight degrees and it’s kind of a long walk. It’s not a problem. My cabin’s right near yours, anyway. Besides, do you even know where you’re going?”

“Flushing cabin,” David answered automatically. 

“And do you know where Flushing is?” Jack prompted. David frowned. “I thought so. Come on. I’ll give you a quick tour on the way.” David expected Jack to lead him to where all the other guys were getting into cars, but they went around to the side of the building, where a white golf cart sat waiting. “I actually don’t have a car, either,” he said. “But being head counselor has its perks. Throw your stuff in the back.” 

It wasn’t far to the cabin, but Jack drove slowly, giving a running commentary of what they were passing. “Okay, so that’s the director’s cabin. Pulitzer lives there. It’s off limits to everyone. Even me. Then we got the barn here, equestrian cabin, sometimes the younger kids play in this stream here.” They went up a steep hill, and David found himself thanking his stars that he didn’t have to lug his suitcase up it. “Over to the left is the art hut- that’s where crafts orientation is later, and then the dining hall and flagpole right after that. The pool is up this hill there on the right- you’ll go there later today, and then archery on the left. We’ve got a few cabins here- Blink’s unit, and then…” 

They pulled up in front of a large cabin, and Jack put the golf cart in park. “This is Manhattan. Program staff, including me, lives here, but it’s also the staff house. Anyone can come hang out here. There’s a tv, some video games, books, stuff like that. The bedrooms are just private. Over there, you can see the lake, and there are more cabins, plus the infirmary down the road. Your cabin is up that hill.” Jack gestured behind them to a long, steep hill. “Sorry, but you’re gonna have to hoof it. The road’s too narrow for cars, and I’m only supposed to take the cart up there in emergencies. 

“Oh…” David said, speaking for the first time. “That’s fine, I can walk.”

“I’d hope so,” Jack said. “Anyway, there’s four cabins up there. You’re in the second one. Specs and Romeo’ll be able to help you, but let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” David said. “Thanks, Jack.” He hoisted his suitcase out of the back of the golfcart and started up the hill, dragging the suitcase behind him.

By the time he was halfway up the hill, David’s legs were burning and he panted heavily. He had never been incredibly active, and would need to get used to this, especially if this was going to be his home all summer.

He heard someone coming behind him and turned just in time to see Specs jog past with a huge duffel bag slung over one shoulder, not looking the slightest bit bothered. 

“You gonna make it?” he called back, laughing. Normally, it would have bothered David, but something about the way Specs said it made it seem good-natured. 

“Eventually,” David panted. Finally, he made it to the second cabin, which had a sign with the name FLUSHING nailed to the door. Inside, everyone else was already there. Specs and Romeo had already claimed two of the three bottom bunks, and Albert was breathing heavily still. It looked like he had just gotten there.   
The cabin was small, with three bunk beds, a few shelves, and a couple of folding chairs set up. There was no air conditioning, just a ceiling fan and a couple of box fans propping the windows open. “Apparently Albert and Elmer _like_ the top bunk,” said Romeo in disbelief as he unzipped his suitcase. “So you can have the third bottom bunk if you want.” This was a stroke of luck. David hated heights. 

“Great, thanks,” he said, tossing his suitcase onto the open bunk, directly below where Albert was making his bed. David looked around as he unpacked his bag of toiletries. “Uh, where’s the-” 

“Bathroom?” Specs interrupted. “There’s a bathhouse behind Greenwich- the cabin directly behind this one. The showers were made for kids, though. If you don’t want to crouch the whole time you’re showering, you can go down the hill and use Manhattan’s. Well, _Romeo_ should be fine using these.”

Romeo, who was shorter than the other guys, threw his water bottle at Specs’ head. “Shut up.” He looked back to the new counselors. “If you just need to pee, you can honestly just piss off our cabin’s deck. Just make sure kids don’t see.”

Specs grimaced. “Seriously, probably just go to the bathroom. That happened two years ago, and it was this whole thing. Remember, Raccoon didn’t just get fired, there was a whole investigation. He whipped it out right when some kid was coming to tell us he had a nightmare. Not worth it.”

“It was bad,” Romeo agreed. 

“Use the bathroom,” Elmer noted. “Got it.”

The boys chatted as they unpacked. David learned that Specs was a dancer, Romeo was originally from Colombia but moved to the US when he was eleven, and Albert and Elmer had just graduated from high school. Specs pulled a small orange bag out of his backpack,, and Romeo grinned. “What’s that?” David asked.

“It’s an Eno,” Specs replied. “You know, a hammock.” He opened the bag and an impossible amount of bright orange fabric flowed out. “A bunch of us have one, actually.” With Romeo’s help, he strung the hammock up between two bunks so that it stretched across the cabin, and Specs hopped gracefully into it. 

From their spot atop the hill, referred to by most people around camp as Flushing Hill, they could hear other staff members coming and going down below. It sounded like most of the guys had just dumped their stuff and were congregating in Manhattan. “Spot!” David heard someone yell. “Spot, we still got an hour! Come play me!” 

“And it begins,” Specs said. Albert and Elmer were laughing about something. “Race and Spot have this crazy rivalry. It’s the only time Spot hangs out with anyone except the lifeguards.” 

“Yeah, he’s kinda scary,” Elmer said.

Specs shook his head. “He’s not scary! He’s just… okay, so he isn’t super friendly.” 

“He dumped a bucket of ice water on me when I was fifteen because I was the last one out of bed,” Albert interjected.

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason why he’s a lifeguard instead of a counselor now,” Romeo explained. “Anyway, I’m gonna go down there.”

David joined Romeo and they walked down the hill together to the Manhattan cabin, where a few guys were sitting on the porch, talking. Inside was mayhem. Race and Spot were just settling in for a game of Mario Kart, and the other counselors were crowded around them, yelling encouragements and taunts. They chose their characters quickly- this was clearly a common occurrence, and Spot flipped right to Rainbow Road. “Trying to start big?” Race jeered. 

Spot shot him a withering look. “What, too much for you?”

“I just thought you’d want to give yourself a fighting chance, is all,” Race retorted. The race started and they stayed neck and neck most of the time. As the tension grew, Race and Spot both stood up from the couch while other guys around them cheered. Just as a big turn came up, Spot rammed his shoulder into Race’s arm, knocking him off balance and in turn, making Race miss the turn and fall off the road. The stream of profanities that came out of Race’s mouth next was incredible. Spot won the race, Race demanded best two out of three, and they started again.

“This could honestly go for hours,” someone said from beside David. He turned to see Jack watching with his arms crossed and a wry smile across his face. 

“So, do they not get along?” David asked.

Jack shrugged. “They’re actually really good friends. Spot kinda keeps to himself. He mostly just hangs out with the other lifeguards. The only person he usually willingly hangs out with is Race. They’re just insanely competitive.” He looked back at the race, where the two guys had been separated by a few other counselors to avoid more cheating. “I think you get the gist. Want a tour of Manhattan?” David nodded and Jack led him away. 

They ended up in a kitchen. “That was obviously, the rec room. When there aren’t crazy games going on people just watch tv or take a nap on one of the couches. This is the kitchen. You’re welcome to use it, of course, but I don’t recommend leaving food in here. The cabin’s always had a bit of a mice problem. If you do leave anything, just put your name on it. Otherwise, it’s fair game.” They went down a shirt, dark hallway. “There’s a phone here- it’s really hard to get cell phone service here. You can get it at the art hut and the pool, but that’s about it. And bathroom’s down the hall. I don’t know if the guys told you, but you’ll probably want to shower here. You’re way too tall for the Flushing Hill showers.”

“Yeah, that’s what Specs said.” 

Jack gestured to two closed doors. “That’s my room- I share with Race and Crutchie, and then the Delancey’s room- Oscar and Morris, I mean. They’re brothers. No one’s allowed in here unless you’re invited. Privacy, you know.”

“Where are Oscar and Morris?” David asked. It looked like pretty much everyone had gathered by this point.

“Who cares?” Jack grumbled. “Everyone hates them.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be-”

“Unbiased because I’m head counselor?” Jack interrupted. “Yeah. I shouldn’t say anything, but seriously? Those guys are the worst.” Yelling erupted from the rec room again. It was hard to tell, but it sounded like Race won. 

Before David knew it, it was time to go for arts and crafts orientation. He and the other counselors walked down to the art hut together, and for the entire walk, the guys around him laughed and caught up with each others’ lives from the past year. 

 

The lifeguards, Jack, and Race stayed behind- none of them had any reason to go to this orientation. Jack and Race decided to take a quick break in their room before putting together the training materials that they needed. “I saw you sneak off with the new guy,” Race said casually.

Jack rolled his eyes. “I was just giving him a tour of the cabin.”

“It’s a small cabin, bro. And you didn’t give Albert and Elmer a tour.”

“Albert and Elmer have been here for years.”

“Not in this cabin,” Race reminded him. “Campers aren’t allowed in here.” He paused. “Don’t do this again, Jack. It never ends well.”

“Do what?” Jack asked innocently. 

Race rolled his eyes. “Don’t get involved with another counselor. You know how awful it was having to keep Bucket a secret.”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not getting involved with anyone. Besides, I’m head counselor now. It’d be weird.”

“Good,” Race said. “I’ll be watching you. No shenanigans.”

Jack saluted. “No shenanigans. Got it.”

 

In the art hut, Crutchie waited eagerly for the staff to show up. This orientation was by no means a big deal. He was just going to go over art hut rules, show them where everything was, and give them a few ideas for rainy day crafts. But he was finally in charge of something! Finally not just a basic counselor. This had been Jack’s job the year before, but when he decided to go for the head counselor position, Jack pushed for Crutchie to get his job. 

He heard the guys coming down the road and hoisted himself up from his seat, hanging onto the edge of the counter instead of going for his crutch. Back home, he used a wheelchair a lot of the time, but the camp wasn’t very wheelchair-friendly, and he didn’t like sitting still for that long, anyway. “Come on in,” Crutchie said excitedly as Mush opened the door at the front of the group. “Just sit down anywhere.” 

“Okay, so, this is the art hut,” he said once everyone had taken a seat. It was sort of comical, seeing all of these grown men sitting at child-sized chairs, in front of primary-colored tables. “I’ll be here pretty much whenever you have a group here, but I’m just gonna go over where things are.” He limped around the hut, pointing out cabinets and drawers full of supplies, which he and Jack had painstakingly organized and labeled the summer before. “I just want to go over a few rules. Number one, no pooping. The toilet in here can’t handle it. If a kid has to go to the bathroom, send them up to the dining hall. Number two, glitter use has to be supervised by an adult. Number three, kids need a staff member’s permission to go get supplies. Number four, no messing with the kiln. I don’t think it works, but just to be safe.”

He rifled through a drawer a withdrew a bucket of Perler beads and fished a couple out. “Everyone shut up for a minute.” The counselors gathered there stilled, stopping any fidgeting and whispering. Crutchie held up a single bead and dropped it. The slight _plink_ of the bead hitting the floor seemed to echo throughout the room. “That sound haunts my dreams. If anyone drops beads, kids or staff, it gets cleaned up, okay? I’m so serious about this.” A few guys snickered. 

Crutchie clapped his hands together. “So, uh, I guess I could show you a few basic crafts for rainy day activities. You could always-” The door opened then and Morris and Oscar, the Delancey brothers, strolled in. 

“Finally got out of having to do any physical activity, Crutch?” Oscar drawled.

Crutchie felt his face get hot before shooting back a retort. “Yeah, I did. And I’ll be having a great time in here in the air conditioning with cell service while you two are scooping horse shit and standing in a hot field full of targets.” A few guys openly laughed. 

Morris crossed his arms menacingly, glaring. “Anyway,” Crutchie said. “Are you guys here to observe are you just trying to intimidate me? I’m kind of busy.”

“We came to remind you of pool orientation,” Morris said. Oscar shot him an irritated look.

“Thanks, Morris,” Crutchie said sarcastically. “That wasn’t on all of our schedules, or anything. And we haven’t only been in this session for ten minutes. Either sit and make some crafts or leave.” The two brothers stalked back out of the art hut, and Crutchie rolled his eyes. “Anyway, let’s continue with something that’s actually relevant.”

 

David left crafts orientation carrying a dream catcher, the beginnings of a lanyard, and a clumsy friendship bracelet. Some of the guys, like Romeo, were oddly good at these camp crafts. Romeo cut himself some string for a bracelet and deftly wove and knotted until he had something that could easily be sold in a tourist trap at the beach or something. 

Like Morris had so helpfully reminded them, the counselors had pool orientation next, which would include staff swim tests. They all had a few minutes to run back to their cabins to change and get towels. When he got to the bottom of Flushing Hill, David stared up at it annoyance. “You get used to it, new kid,” Specs said before casually and effortlessly strolling up the hill. Somehow, David doubted that.

They changed quickly and grabbed towels. David started back down the hill, but Romeo stopped him. “There’s a shortcut,” he explained before disappearing into the woods with Specs, Albert, and Elmer. They stomped through the woods with Specs out front with a stick to clear away the many spider webs that had built up during the off season, occasionally stopping to move a fallen branch off the path. It was a shorter walk than David expected, and pretty soon they came to a clearing where the pool sat on top of the hill.

They had beaten most of the other guys there, but the lifeguards were already standing in line at the ready. They each wore crimson swim trunks with the lifeguard logo on one leg, dark sunglasses, and whistles around their necks. Spot stood in the middle position, flanked by the other guards. He was at least a head shorter than all of them, but what he lacked in height he made up in muscle mass. 

The counselors busied themselves with putting on sunscreen or checking their phones, but it was mostly quiet. There was something intimidating about Spot and the lifeguards, and no one seemed too eager to cross them. The rest of the staff, including Jack, Race, and the Delancey brothers, as well as a few people that David didn’t know and assumed were kitchen staff, showed up soon, and they all took a seat at the picnic tables next to the pool. Only Crutchie was missing.

Spot stepped up then and everyone instinctively put their phones away. “Alright. Rule number one. This is _my_ pool, and the lake is _my_ lake, and you follow _my_ rules,” he boomed in his thick New York accent. “That means no fucking around, no going behind my back, and absolutely _no_ undermining what I say. If I fail a kid in his swim test, for instance, I don’t care how hard he’s crying, you’re not changing my decision. 

“If there is an emergency, you need to be ready to help me or any of the other guards. That means no texting while you’re up here, no friendship bracelets, no nothing. You need to pay attention.” Spot had one of the lifeguards, JoJo, show them where all of the safety equipment, as well as the phone were located. “Oh, another rule. I don’t care what you think you have to say to us, do not distract the guards. We aren’t here to buddy up during swim time. And if I tell you to do something, even if that’s just getting my water bottle out of my backpack, you do it immediately. Your purpose here as counselors is to babysit, help a kid find a towel, show someone where the bathroom is, stuff like that. But more importantly, you’re here to support the lifeguards.

“We swim test everyone. You all will take this pass/fail, but the kids will either get a green band, an orange band, or a black band. Green means they can go in the deep end, orange means they have to stay in the shallow end, black means they have to stay in the three foot area. You’re going to swim across the pool and back and then tread water for a minute. That’s it.” Spot scanned the crowd, then pointed at Race. “Race, you’re up.”

Race scowled. “What, we’re doing individual tests now? Do you realize how long that’s going to take?”

“No,” Spot sneered. “You’re demonstrating. Get in the pool.”

“Why don’t you or one of your boys demonstrate?” Race retorted.  
“ _Me and my boys_ are guarding,” Spot shot back.

“Sure, because one twenty year old man needs four lifeguards watching him.” But Race pulled his shirt off and jumped into the shallow end anyway. Spot blew his whistle and Race easily completed the test, finishing it off by casually treading water while chatting with Spot, who had calmed down a bit. 

After Race passed his test, they went quickly, with the guys taking their tests in groups as large as the pool would allow. They all passed. Jack sat on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water, and checked his watch. “We’ve still got an hour before dinner. Spot, you good with us swimming for a while?” Spot begrudgingly agreed, and he and Dutchy, one of the guards, took their posts, Spot on the tall guard chair and Dutchy pacing the side of the pool. The kitchen staff grabbed their towels and headed back down to the dining hall, and the Delancey brothers left, as well.

The guys left in the pool splashed, roughhoused, and joked around for ages. David was pulled into a game of basketball using a bucket on the side of the pool, and the guys on his team kept commenting on how lucky they were to have someone so tall on their side. About half an hour passed before the lifeguards switched and JoJo and Boots dragged themselves out of the pool, switching places with Spot and Dutchy, who both cannonballed into the pool. Spot joined the basketball game, but he was no good, and cursed every time he shot and missed.

Race glanced sideways at Spot before announcing loudly, “Look, I’m a whale!” He leapt from the water before crashing back down right on top of Spot, dunking him under. From there, it just devolved into the two of them, and then the whole group, dunking each other. 

All in all, it was the most fun David had had in weeks. He wasn’t disliked at home or at school, but he also wasn’t popular. He wasn’t in a fraternity, or any clubs, and only really knew the people in his classes. Generally he went home, watched Netflix, read, or just went to sleep. But these guys had accepted him so easily into their group. It was nice. And different.


	2. Trail Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David starts to settle in at Camp Mountain Ridge. Meanwhile, Jack stands up to the Delanceys.

At dinner, Jack had to meet with Pulitzer and Weasel for a while to discuss training progress and the rest of the schedule. It was all pretty standard, but Jack noticed that Pulitzer didn’t seem to have any sense of humor. He grabbed dinner- standard hot dogs and burgers- and found a seat after they finished. Most of the guys were already finishing up, but it looked like they’d stick around talking for a while longer. Jack found a spot open at a table with Specs, Albert, David, and Crutchie and took a seat between David and Crutchie.

“Town day tomorrow,” Jack announced to the table.

Specs’ eyes widened even more than usual behind his thick glasses. “Already? It’s just the second day.”

Jack nodded. “It’s not ideal, but it’s the only time the girls were available.”

“What’s a town day?” David asked.

“Oh, it’s _great_ ,” Crutchie responded. “We all go into town with the counselors from the girls camp across the lake. Walmart run, fast food… we usually end up going bowling or to the movies or something.”

“Yeah,” Specs added. “And it’s a good time to stock up on snacks or anything you forgot.”

“My sister works at the girl’s camp,” David said.

Jack turned to him. “Anyone I’d know, or is she new, too?”

“She’s been there a few years. Sarah Jacobs?” Jack was suddenly very busy putting mustard on his burger. Crutchie laughed. “What?” David asked.

Jack shook his head, but Crutchie ignored him. “Jack knows Sarah Jacobs, alright,” he said. “If you catch my drift.”

“Wha-” David started, then caught on. “Oh. Oh, god.”

“We have… a very friendly relationship with the girl’s camp here,” Jack explained, reddening slightly.

“She never mentioned you,” David pointed out.

Jack clutched his chest. “Oh! My heart! How will I go on?” The other guys at the table laughed. “Seriously, it was short lived. She’s cool, but neither of us were looking for anything. You’re not going to like, beat me up behind the gym for that, are you?”

David shook his head. “It’s fine.”

 

The rest of the evening was mostly uneventful. They had a campfire and Mush pulled out a guitar and started playing some songs while they made s’mores and roasted whatever they could spear onto a stick. Most of the guys stayed up talking until late into the evening, until one by one, they drifted off into the dark toward their respective cabins.

David walked back with Elmer and Albert, and decided that he needed a shower to rinse the chlorine out of his hair. It had gotten extremely, properly dark, and although he could see the lights of the Manhattan cabin off in the distance, it seemed like a long way away and he had forgotten to pack a flashlight.

Since he only needed a quick shower, David grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a dry towel, along with his toothbrush and toothpaste, and went to investigate the Flushing Hill showers. They were easy enough to find, but when David stepped into the bathhouse, he could see that Specs was right. The shower nozzles were probably about five feet high, and David, at six foot two, could only shower up to about his chest that way. Resigning himself to the dark, he started trudging down the hill, passing Specs and Romeo on the way down.

At the bottom of the hill, Manhattan’s porch light was on, and David saw Jack and Race coming outside, carrying two stacks of bedding, which they unceremoniously dumped on the ground outside the cabin. The Delancey brothers stormed out just after them furiously. “You guys can go now,” Jack was saying.

“You can’t just kick us out of the cabin,” Oscar growled.

“We’re program staff,” Morris added. David hung back awkwardly in the shadows.

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you are. But I’m head counselor, I make the cabin assignments, and I’ve decided to reassign you two. You can go to Queens.”

Oscar opened his mouth to argue, but Jack held up a hand. “Don’t even try, Delancey. I warned you that I wouldn’t put up with that shit in my cabin, and I meant it. Grab your stuff and go. You can take your car.” Oscar and Morris bent to gather their things from the ground before stalking off to the staff parking lot, grumbling the whole time. Once they had been swallowed by the darkness, David stepped up into the light.

“Oh, New Kid,” Race said, surprised. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“It’s dark,” David said simply. “What was that all about?”

Jack scowled. “Let’s just say, Oscar decided that it would be funny to make a few off color jokes about a few of the staffers’ lifestyles.”

“Lousy homophobes,” Race added.

“Oh,” David replied. There was silence for a minute. “They don’t have camp names,” he pointed out uselessly, feeling dumb for not knowing what to say.

Race cracked up, and Jack cracked a grin. “Morris doesn’t, because he’s completely devoid of personality,” Jack explained. “But Oscar is a camp name.”

“Wh-”

“You know Sesame street?” Race asked. David nodded.

“The guy in the trashcan,” Jack added on. “Oscar. Because Oscar Delancey’s trash.” Even David laughed at that one. The headlights of the Delancey’s car sped by them, illuminating the area for a brief moment. “What’re you doing, by the way?” Jack asked David.

He held up his towel. “Shower.”

“Oh, well don’t let me stop you,” Jack said, and David headed into the cabin. He could hear Race and Jack arguing good-naturedly about who would get their own room now that the brothers were out.

  
David and Race went back outside, but Jack wandered out to a specific spot in the road where the canopy of trees above cleared, leaving a perfect window to the sky. He laid down in the dark, staring up at the cloudless night. After only a couple of minutes like that, Jack heard an irregular gait coming slowly behind him, from the direction of Manhattan. 

“Step into my office,” Jack said, not taking his eyes off the stars.

Crutchie slowly lowered himself to the ground, lying down next to Jack. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Just taking a break from people,” Jack replied.

“Oh. Do you want me to leave?” 

Jack shook his head. “Nah. I never need a break from you. You know that.” They laid there in silence for a while. “I’m kind of surprised you came back again this year.”

Crutchie took his time answering. “I wasn’t sure if I would. Or could, I guess. I haven’t been walking so good, you know, and I’m tired of it slowing me down.”

“The guys understand, though,” Jack pointed out. “They don’t have a problem with you being a little bit slower.” 

“Yeah, I know. But you know. It just sucks.” Crutchie sighed. “Sometimes I just wish I could have my leg chopped off, so I can be done with it.”

Jack turned to Crutchie. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” Crutchie said fervently. “At least then I could get a prosthetic or something. I trust science a whole lot more than I trust my own leg. Is that weird?”

“In your case, no,” Jack said, looking back to the stars. “Can’t you get surgery or something?”

“Yeah, with all of my disposable money. But I don’t know. It just feels like it’ll never work right again, you know? Surgery would be the ideal thing- actually, no. Going to the hospital and having it taken care of properly when it got shattered in the first place would have been the ideal thing.”

The two of them fell silent. It wasn’t an awkward silence- it never was with Jack and Crutchie. Just comfortable and warm. “I’ve missed this,” Jack sighed. “Laying out under the stars. Hell, seeing stars at all.”

“Me too.”

Jack clenched his jaw, mentally searching for constellations as he did so. “Someday, hopefully soon, I’m moving out west. Somewhere I can see the stars all the time. I don’t know how- I’ve been trying to save but it’s hard to save when all of your paychecks go toward rent.”

“Have you decided where you want to go yet?” Crutchie asked.

“Santa Fe,” Jack replied definitely.

“Why?”

“There’s an art school out there that I could try to go to, but it’s more that, you know... there are mountains, and canyons, and there’s actually room to breathe. I wouldn’t have to live three stories above a bodega. I could rent a little house with a big yard, maybe get a dog...”

“It sounds nice,” Crutchie agreed wistfully.

Jack propped himself up suddenly on his elbow and turned to Crutchie. “You should come, too. We can be roommates. Cost of living’s cheaper. We could save up. I could go to school, maybe you could finally get surgery.”

Crutchie grinned widely. “Sounds like a plan, Jack.” 

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you can walk right?” Jack asked, laying back down.

“I’m not gonna walk,” Crutchie replied. “I’m going to run everywhere. And I want to go on hikes. And not just on the handicap accessible ‘trails’.” He held up his hands, miming air quotes. 

“Just you wait, Crutchie,” Jack said. “Soon enough, we’ll be the greatest pair of trail runners Santa Fe ever saw.”

 


	3. Town Days

  
The next morning, David woke to the sound of someone stumbling around the cabin. He groggily opened the eyes and first registered Specs kneeling and digging through his suitcase, and second, that it was still dark out. David yawned, and Specs looked at him sheepishly. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I'm just looking for my shoe. I can't find it.”

“Is it morning?” David asked, although it came out more like “S’it morring?”

“No,” Specs whispered back. “It's 5:30. Go back to sleep.”

“Kay,” David said, before rolling onto his stomach and immediately passing back out. 

 

A few more hours of blissful sleep passed before the Flushing guys actually started to wake up. They were all getting dressed for the day when Specs strolled in, whistling and wet from a shower. “Morning,” he said jovially. “Sorry for waking you up this morning, Dave.”

David could hardly remember waking up at 5:30. “Specs is a  _ morning person, _ ” Romeo said, as if it were a dirty word. 

“I go running with Mush and JoJo every morning,” Specs explained. “Are you a runner? You could come too, if you want.”

David fought back the urge to laugh. “I can hardly walk up the hill. I'm definitely not a runner.”

They finished getting dressed before walking as a cabin to the dining hall, where there was a cereal bar and some muffins set up. They had just sat down to eat when Jack came in, explaining that they had a training session immediately after breakfast, and then they would all carpool to town to meet the girls. 

The morning training session was uncomfortable and upsetting. They had to watch a long video about child abuse, how to recognize the signs, and how to file a report. As soon as the returning staff heard what the training session was, they all groaned, but no one complained too much. It was one of the more important lessons they'd learn, Crutchie told David. 

After more than two hours, they emerged from the lodge blinking in the sunlight, the mood somber. A few of the guys, David noticed, stepped out of the room at various points when the videos they watched got too disturbing. 

 

Race stepped up to the front of the group, clapping his hands together. “Okay, guys!” he said, faking a cheery voice. “Time for a town day! You guys know the drill. Take as few cars as possible and meet at the Walmart at the bottom of the mountain.” The staff grouped off into cars, but Race held back for Spot, who had been in the bathroom for a suspiciously long time. “You okay?” he asked as Spot finally emerged. 

Spot held up a hand. “I'm fine,” he said gruffly. There was something manic in his eyes. 

“Want to ride together?” 

“Nah,” Spot replied, shaking his head. “I'm riding with the guards. Besides- looks like some people are waiting for you.” He jerked his head in the direction of the road where Jack, Crutchie, and the new guy, David, were waiting. “Probably needs your car.” Spot strode off and Race watched as Spot stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and headed toward the parking lot, head held high. 

Race met up with his friends at the road, where they were waiting expectantly. “You’re riding with me, then?” he asked. Crutchie nodded. “And you’re not going to pay me back for gas, are you?” Jack shook his head. “Fine, let’s go. You too, David?”

“He doesn’t have a car,” Jack explained. 

The four boys piled into Race’s beat up Honda, Jack and Race in the front seats, and pulled out of camp, following a line of cars. The line broke up some once they hit the highway, and Jack, Crutchie, and Race honked his horn and yelled taunts at the counselors they passed. Specs and Snoddy were apparently notoriously slow drivers. Race pulled up alongside a black Jeep at a red light, full of lifeguards and driven by Spot. Heavy bass from a rap song pumped out of the car, and Race and Spot made eye contact just as the light turned green. “You want another ticket?” Jack warned, but he didn’t seem too concerned. Simultaneously, Race and Spot gunned their cars, but Spot’s Jeep was more suited for the mountain roads and pulled ahead easily, while Race’s poor Honda whined. They both backed off of the gas once the winner of the race was obvious. David’s knuckles were white gripping his phone in one hand and the “oh shit bar” with the other.

“You’re never going to beat him,” Crutchie said. “His car’s just better.”

“My car is fantastic!” Race protested. “It’s just been through a lot.”

“Your car doesn’t have AC or a working radio, and it makes a rattling noise every time you go over fifty,” Jack teased. “Sure sounds fantastic.”

 

They eventually pulled into the Walmart parking lot and parked near the back, where a bunch of other cars were parked, many of which had various camp bumper stickers slapped onto the bumpers and windows. The girls had already arrived and David could see his sister, Sarah, leaning against a car and talking to Mush and a few other girls. She glanced up when he got out of the car, but didn’t acknowledge her younger brother. 

David hung back with Jack and Crutchie- the guys in his cabin had all ridden with Specs, who wasn’t there yet. “Hey, Racetrack,” Spot called from where he was sitting on the hood of his Jeep. “Pay up.”

Race pulled a face but withdrew a five dollar bill from his pocket, which he reluctantly gave Spot. “Is Race called that because he’s always racing Spot?” David asked Jack quietly. 

Jack shook his head. “Nah. It’s because he does a lot of gambling. He and Spot have an ongoing five dollar bet for street racing.”

“Why would you bet on something you’re obviously going to lose?” David asks.

“He’d never admit it, but Spot lets him win sometimes,” Crutchie interjected. 

Specs and Snoddy’s cars finally pulled up, and Jack went off to hug one of the girls. “Bout time you got here,” JoJo the lifeguard yelled as Specs got out of his car. 

“Specs goes the speed limit,” Romeo grumbled. 

The group walked into Walmart together before splitting off into groups. For the most part, the guys stuck together, and the girls stuck together, but there was intermingling in some places. David spotted Albert holding hands with one of the girls and remembered him mentioning that his girlfriend worked at the other camp. Jack waved David over to where he was walking with Sarah and another girl. “Yo, David! This is Katherine,” he said, gesturing to the girl. Her name rang a bell- Sarah used to talk about someone named Katherine a lot. “And I believe you know the lovely Sarah Jacobs already.” 

“Hey, Davey,” Sarah said. 

Jack latched onto the nickname immediately. “ _ Davey _ ?” he repeated gleefully. David shook his head, but it was too late. 

“Don’t tease him,” Katherine said with a wry smile. 

“Come on,  _ Davey _ ,” Jack said. “We need to buy snacks.” Jack dragged David all over Walmart picking out bags of candy, art supplies, and whatever else they could fit in the basket. When they went to the toys section, it was overrun by counselors, trying on bits of costumes, tossing balls, pushing all of the buttons on toys to make them talk and sing and roar and everything else. Specs and Romeo were having a race on two tiny bicycles and Mike and Ike were in the middle of an intense Nerf sword fight. 

A harried looking Walmart employee approached Jack, who was looking through the board games with David and Katherine, but not causing any trouble. “You guys have got to leave,” he pleaded. 

“Come on, Isaac,” Jack said in a bargaining tone. “We hardly ever come out here.”

“You're disruptive.” 

Jack nodded. “Yes. Which is why this establishment should really reconsider how it stocks the toy department. This stuff is asking to be played with.”

The Walmart employee, Isaac, sighed. “Just get your staff out of the toys and wrap it up.”

Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted loudly enough for everyone in the store to hear. “Camp staff! Wrap it up and check out!” David cringed, regretting walking with Jack. Balls were tossed back in their displays, bikes were parked, toys hastily shoved back on shelves while they mass of camp staff grabbed last minute items before rushing to the register. David looked down at the basket he shared with Jack, noticing items that he didn't even remember grabbing. Shopping with Jack was sort of a free for all.

“Isaac hates us,” Jack said cheerfully. “He's worked here forever. Technically speaking, half the staff is banned from this Walmart.”

 

Race stood in line to check out, putting his deodorant, Cheetos, and new cards on the conveyor belt. “And a pack of whatever cigarettes are cheapest. I really don't care what kind,” he said, sliding his ID to the cashier. 

“Since when do you smoke?” Crutchie asked from behind Race in line. 

“I don't,” he said, as the cashier came back with the pack of cigarettes. 

The counselors all met outside by their cars before discussing the plan. They were going to grab lunch wherever they could find it on the way to the movies, and then go see the new comedy movie. 

Race’s car, along with many others, stopped at a Taco Bell, where Race shouted the other guys’ orders into the drive-thru speaker. They ate quickly on the road, with Race driving with his knees while knocking back four tacos in quick succession.

The movie theater was mostly dead, since it was the middle of the day on a weekday, but a few teenagers were milling about. The camp staff bogged down the line for a few minutes, buying tickets, before crowding into the theater. David went to follow Jack to a seat, since they had been hanging out all day, but Specs grabbed David’s arm and dragged him back a few rows. “Sit with your cabin!” he said cheerfully. Once they were out of earshot, he leaned in closer. “Trust me, you don’t want to sit anywhere near Jack for this.” David could see Jack and Katherine, a few rows ahead, slip into an empty aisle together.

“That’s Katherine,” Romeo whispered once they had all taken their seats. Albert had abandoned the Flushing boys to sit with his girlfriend. “She’s their head counselor. She and Jack used to be together, and they’re still really good friends and hook up a lot.” David nodded. He was starting to get the idea that Jack kind of got around. 

The movie started soon enough, and the Flushing boys shared a bucket of popcorn that Elmer had bought. Within only a few minutes, Jack and Katherine were attached at the face, as well as several other couples scattered around the theater. David did his best to focus on the movie, which was passably funny, although he wasn’t a big fan of raunchy comedy. When the credits finally rolled and the two camp staffs filed out of the theater, Romeo elbowed Jack on the way out. “How was the movie?” he goaded.

“Great,” Jack replied perkily, pulling a hat over his disheveled hair. 

“What was it about?” Specs teased.

Jack shoved Specs, but didn’t supply an answer. 

 

After loitering in the parking lot for a while, the two camps split back up into cars and went back up the mountain to work. It was about half an hour’s drive, and they had just enough time back at camp for a quick lesson while the kitchen staff got dinner ready. As David slowly worked his way through a pack of Twizzlers that Jack had talked him into buying while Blink explained firemaking to the group, he couldn’t help but yawn and wonder how, if just staff training was this exhausting, he would ever handle a group of kids.


	4. Venom, Moonlight, and Oak Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Davey go on an adventure.

Staff training passed by in a blur, for the most part. David found himself getting really close to the guys, especially the ones in his cabin. They even had some inside jokes that he was in on now. He was getting better at climbing the hill into Flushing, and had even managed to start a fire all by himself. He paddled a canoe, learned to shoot a bow, and hiked to the top of the mountain nearby. Mr. Pulitzer rarely did anything with the staff. He preferred to stay in the administration building with Weisel while Jack ran things. Occasionally, he would drop in to teach a quick lesson, but they were always dull, tense, and over quickly. For someone who ran a camp, he sure didn’t seem to like summer camp very much. 

The last night of training before kids were set to arrive, David was walking back from the lodge by himself after watching a movie with a few guys. He had forgotten his flashlight but by this point, knew the camp so well that he didn’t really need one, as long as he stayed on the road. 

David heard something rustling in the trees somewhere to the right of him and froze, panic overtaking him. He had heard stories of bears in the woods around the camp, and even though the guys said that the bears were nothing to be afraid of, David still didn’t particularly want to test his luck. He whipped his head around, looking for the closest building, which seemed to be the Manhattan cabin, whose lights were shining off in the distance. He could try to run it, but would that just piss the bear off more?

Just as he was about to accept his impending doom, a flashlight flicked on and Jack emerged from the woods. “Davey?” Jack asked, using the nickname that he had picked up from Sarah. “What are you doing?”

“Trying not to get attacked by a bear,” David replied. “Why are  _ you  _ wandering around in the woods with no flashlight?”

“I have a flashlight.”

“It wasn’t on.”

Jack waved his hand, making the beam of light fly past David’s face. “I totally forgot to refill the geocaches before the kids come tomorrow, so I have to do it now.”

“And you can’t have a flashlight for refilling geocaches?” David prompted.

Jack shrugged. “I like the dark. Anyway, are you busy?” David shook his head. “Want to help me? I’d normally get Race, but I have no idea where he is.”

David considered saying no. He had planned on having an early night so he was well rested for campers arriving tomorrow, but something told him that he needed to go with Jack. “Yeah, sure,” he said. 

“Awesome.” Jack handed him a reusable grocery bag. It was too dark to tell what was in it, but it felt full. “You can carry this. It’s the prizes that go in the geocaches.” He pulled a list out of his back pocket and shone the light on it for a minute. “Okay, there’s one behind the canoe shed, one by the wood pile outside of Manhattan, and one at the bottom of Flushing hill. Those are the closest ones to here.” They quickly found the three geocaches, which were well hidden, especially in the dark, but not so well hidden that the kids wouldn’t be able to find them in the daylight. 

“Is that all of them?” David asked after they finished filling those geocaches with stickers and small toys. 

“Nope,” Jack replied, checking the list. “There’s one by the pool, and one on the observation deck.” The observation deck was way up Flushing hill and down a path through the woods. David had only been there once during a scavenger hunt that they did a few days earlier. It overlooked the lake and the view of the mountains, although it was way too dark to see that now. 

“Isn’t it a little bit dark to go up there?” David asked warily. 

“Nah, I’ve been up there in the dark loads of times,” Jack replied. “It’s easy. Come on, I won’t let you fall off the mountain.”

Although David was still wary of the situation, he followed Jack up Flushing hill and past the staff cabin, where the rest of the guys were playing a loud game of Never Have I Ever. 

Jack and David made it to the top of the hill shortly, and only had to go a little bit farther to the observation deck. They searched the area quickly for the geocache box- David had taken over the flashlight, so Jack was just feeling around blindly for it. He reached under the deck and felt something weird, which moved quickly, running over his outstretched hand. “ _ What the fuck _ ?!” Jack shouted.

“ _ What _ ?” David yelped with a jump, and pointed the light over in Jack’s direction.

The beam from the flashlight illuminated Jack’s hand, and he could now see a black snake lying right next to his hand, moving slowly. Jack screamed. David laughed, seeing the snake, and calmly picked it up, as if he had done this a million times. “What the hell are you  _ doing _ ?” Jack gasped, yanking his hand away from where it had been touched by the snake.

“It’s a ribbon snake,” David explained calmly, letting the snake roam across his outstretched hands. “They’re not venomous. They’re actually really docile.”

“How do you know it’s not poisonous?” Jack asked shakily.

“First of all,” David said, “It would be venomous, not poisonous. Poison is what you eat. Venom is what tries to eat you.” David changed his grip on the snake so that the head was on view. “His head’s round, rather than pointed, for one thing. That generally means they’re not venomous, although there are exceptions. And I just happen to know about ribbon snakes.” He held the snake up toward Jack. “Want to touch it?”

“Not even a little bit,” Jack replied. 

David raised his eyebrows. “Are you scared of snakes?”

“Hey!” Jack protested. “I’m not scared, but I’m not trying to get poisoned- venomed- I don’t know- if you’re wrong.”

David shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I’m not wrong.” He went to the opposite side of the path and released the snake, where it slithered under a log for safety.

Once he was sure the snake was gone, Jack grabbed the flashlight and searched the ground for the geocache box, which he found next to the stairs leading up to the deck. David filled the box and Jack motioned for him to come up to the deck and turned off the flashlight. “Check this out, Davey,” he said. “You can't see much up here at night, but-”

“Wow,” David sighed as he looked out from the deck. It was pitch black except for the half moon and the stars above, which were reflected in the lake below. It was all a little bit distorted and split by a thick, jagged line made by the mountains and tree line, but it was breathtaking all the same. 

“It's something, huh?” Jack asked with a smile in his voice. “I always liked the stars.”

“Yeah. It's something,” David repeated. They stood in silence for a moment, listening to the cicadas, bullfrogs, and owls going about their lives around them. The very faintest voices drifted up the hill from Flushing, but there was a serene stillness in the air. Jack caught David’s eye and they held intense eye contact for a long moment, before an excited yell came from the cabin down the hill. It sounded like Romeo, and it broke the spell. They both realized at once how charged the moment was, and David’s face flushed. He really hoped Jack couldn't see. 

“Well!” Jack said with all of the enthusiasm he could gather. “Let's go fill the last geocache!” He led the way down a path toward the pool. As they walked, Jack and David made somewhat strained conversation. “How come you know that much about snakes?” Jack asked. 

“The pointed versus round head thing is kind of common knowledge,” David pointed out. “But I like snakes. Pretty much all animals, really.”

“Do you want to work with animals?”

David bit the inner corner of his lip. “I wanted to be a zookeeper as a kid,” he admitted. “But going into business is more practical, so that's what I'm majoring in.”

“Who cares about practical?” Jack demanded. “If you want to work with animals, that's what you should be doing!”

David prickled. It's not like this wasn't something he had already told himself. “And I suppose you plan on spending your whole life as a camp counselor!”

“Not all of us can go to college and get business or zoology degrees,” Jack grumbled. “If you can, you should do what you're passionate about.”

“And what are you passionate about?”

Jack waved a hand. “Don't worry about it.” He was clearly done talking, so the two of them walked the rest of the way in awkward silence. 

All of the pool lights were turned off but the lights of the lifeguard cabin, Brooklyn, were all on nearby. It sounded like they were listening to music. “Should be somewhere near here,” Jack muttered to himself. “By the oak tree… which one is oak? This would be so much easier in the daytime.”

They rounded a corner and before David could even react to what he saw there, Jack clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him backwards. 

They had found the oak tree. And on the other side of the tree, Race had Spot pinned against the trunk, where Spot had one leg wrapped around Race’s waist, and they were kissing roughly. Race’s fingers tangled in Spot’s hair as they battled for dominance. 

Jack and Davey inched away, and Jack pulled David close. “What do we do?” he whispered in David’s ear.

“I don't know,” David hissed back. 

Jack grabbed David by the wrist and started to pull him back up the hill toward the pool, but stepped on a dry branch, which cracked like a gunshot. Race and Spot pulled apart noisily, and David heard Spot curse. “Who’s there?” Race asked warily. 

David shot Jack a panicked look, which Jack mirrored, but Jack stepped out of the woods toward the two of them, waving jauntily. “Nice night, fellas. What's up?” David followed, trailing behind uncomfortably. 

“How long were you there?” Spot demanded. He sounded angry. 

Jack laughed. “Long enough to get the picture, bud.” Spot cursed again. “It's fine!”

“There's no picture to get,” Spot growled. “Nothing happened. Got that, Kelly?”

Jack held up both hands in surrender. “I get it, Conlon. You're fine.” Spot looked like he had something else to say, but he pursed his lips and, fuming, stormed off towards his cabin without another word.

Race ran a hand through his hair. The hum of the cicadas seemed magnified in the silence. “I’m gonna go to bed,” he finally said in a strained tone before disappearing into the dark toward his own cabin.

Once Race was out of earshot, David turned to face Jack, who looked like he had been punched in the gut. “Did you know about this?” David asked.

Jack shook his head. “No idea,” he replied weakly. They found the geocache easily enough- it was right next to where Race and Spot had been standing- and filled it. “I need to go talk to Race. Let’s get going.” They walked back to Manhattan cabin in pensive silence before Jack grabbed David’s arm. “You won’t mention this, right?” he asked urgently. “Word spreads fast around here and not everyone is too friendly.” 

David thought back to what Race had said about the Delancey brothers-  _ “Lousy homophobes _ ”- and shook his head quickly. “Of course not.”

“Thanks,” Jack said. “Good night.”

 

After he watched Davey trudge back up Flushing hill, Jack went inside Manhattan. No one was in the rec room, for which he was grateful, and Crutchie was already passed out in the room they shared. When Oscar and Morris were moved out of the cabin, they agreed to give Race the extra room. Jack and Crutchie were close enough friends that they liked sharing. Jack dropped his backpack on his bunk and then crossed the hall to Race’s room, which had light spilling out from under the door. 

Jack knocked on the door. “Yeah,” a voice said from inside. 

He opened the door to see Race laying on his back with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, tossing a tennis ball in the air. “You smoke now?” Jack asked, taking a seat on the empty bed.

“Nah,” Race said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth long enough to talk. “Helps me think. I never light ‘em.”

“So, what just happened?” Jack asked, deciding to jump straight in rather than beating around the bush.

Race kept tossing the tennis ball, but he put the cigarette on the table beside his bed. “You know what happened. Me and Spot were making out and you guys caught us.”

“Yeah, I got that much. So, are you-”

“I don’t know,” Race interrupted. “Spot says he’s not. I’m not gay, I know that. But I don’t know. I’ve never- I mean, except with- I don’t know.”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. I get that. How long has this been going on?”

“Since the middle of the summer before last.”

Now,  _ that  _ was news. “ _ What _ ?” Jack asked loudly. Race shushed him. “Sorry. What?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Race muttered. “It’s super casual.” 

“Why didn’t you  _ tell me _ ?” Jack asked. 

“Because!” Race replied, exasperated. “We didn’t want anyone to find out. You know how it is. But really. It’s not a big deal. We’re just friends. Who sometimes mess around. You can understand that, right?”

Jack nodded. “But like…  _ how _ did this even start?”

“A dare got weird,” Race replied sheepishly. 

Jack laughed. Race loved truth or dare, and he always, without question, chose dare. It had gotten him in trouble on many occasions. “Alright, then,” Jack said as he stood up and slapped Race on the shoulder. “Go to sleep. We’ve got an early morning.” He left the room and stopped by his own room to grab his hammock. Crutchie snored lightly but didn’t stir. Jack set his hammock up between two trees outside, climbed in, and within ten minutes, was asleep. 


	5. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campers arrive, Race and David chat, and the Manhattan boys go to war.

Morning dawned bright and early, and all of the guys were more wide awake than they had been any other morning. Their campers wouldn’t start to arrive until after lunch, but they had to get the camp ready, plan schedules, and go over camper assignments. They grabbed muffins, bagels, and coffee from the dining hall and trudged up the hill to the administration building, where they would spend the morning planning. 

Jack caught up to David on the walk. “I wanted to warn you about your camper assignment before we got up there,” he told David. “I’ve got you with the middle school boys.” His tone was apologetic. 

“Okay?” David replied. He wasn’t sure why Jack was telling him this. 

“That age group is… a lot to handle,” Jack said. “I mean, you remember being twelve years old, right?”

David nodded. He did remember, but when he was twelve, the worst he ever did was bringing frogs home on occasion. “I have a brother in middle school,” David pointed out. “I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah,” Jack said slowly. “But you don’t have twenty brothers in middle school. Anyway, I just wanted to warn you. But you’ll be with Romeo, and he’s really good with that age group. And Specs is great, so you can go to any of them, or me, with any problems.”

David grinned. “Thanks for the warning, but I think I’ll be fine.” He looked up at the group, which had pulled ahead of them. Race and Spot were nowhere near each other, and they both sort of seemed to be sulking. “What’s going on with them?” he asked with a pointed nod in each of their directions. 

Jack shrugged. “I don’t think they’ve talked at all since last night,” he said. “But I don’t really know a lot of details.” He was kind of worried about Race, who seemed really down. And Spot on a good day was always only a moment away from snapping- today he seemed ready to bite the head of anyone who even looked at him wrong. 

 

The staff gathered in the admin building’s conference room, sitting with their units, while Jack and Race handed out blank schedules, rosters, and information sheets. All of the names were unfamiliar to David, whose brother wouldn’t be coming to camp for a couple of weeks, but the other counselors compared notes, celebrating when they got a good camper or complaining about notoriously terrible kids. The veteran counselors referred to a few kids as “legends”, which Specs explained were the kids who came every year for almost the entire summer. They had known some of these kids since they were just barely old enough to come to camp. According to Specs, David had three Legends in his group- Anthony, Ben, and Marcus.

The Flushing guys were split up into two groups- Specs, Elmer, and Albert would be in charge of fifteen kids, while Romeo and David would have ten. It wouldn’t be like this all the time, but dragging twenty-five boys to activities was pretty much impossible, so they split it up. 

The program leads sat at the front of the room with blown up versions of the blank schedules, which they filled in as groups claimed the program slots. The pool schedule was filling up fast so David went up to where Spot was seated to pick a few swimming blocks. When he told Spot what times they wanted to come to the pool, the aquatics director glared up at him for a minute before scribbling his and Romeo’s names down. It was like he was daring David to even  _ try _ to say anything.

David sheepishly went back to Romeo, where they filled in the rest of their times. It would be a fairly standard week, filled with canoeing, swimming, horseback riding, archery, and hiking. On Wednesday night, they would be doing a campout with the rest of the middle school group. Their schedules had to be approved by Jack and Race, who consulted the master schedules before checking Romeo and David off. 

The scheduling process took a long time, and before long, it was time for them to get lunch and get ready for kids to arrive. Mr. Pulitzer loomed in the corner of the administration office, scribbling in a notepad while Jack and Race explained the schedules to him. He didn’t seem very invested.

The camp nurse arrived then. She was a loud, older woman with a kind face, who the returning staff either called Medda or Lark. She would be staying in the infirmary and would be available at a moment’s notice for any emergencies. Jack ran to Medda when she came in, giving her a huge hug, which she returned. 

The guys said their hellos to Medda before packing up their rosters and schedules to go to lunch. Jack hung back. “You coming?” David asked Jack as he passed them. 

“Nah,” Jack replied as he dug a couple of granola bars out of his bag. “Check-in’s a big paperwork day. I’ve got to get caught up.” David shrugged and then jogged to catch up with Albert and Elmer, who were waiting for him outside. 

 

As Jack and Medda worked on filling out camper paperwork and medical forms, Pulitzer and Weisel were in the staff kitchen, enjoying lunch. “How’s Pulitzer been?” Medda asked, quietly enough that she couldn’t be heard a few rooms over.

Jack made a face. “He has no sense of humor and it honestly doesn’t seem like he even likes camp.”

Medda gestured to the stack of papers looming before them. “You know, this is normally done when I get here.”

“I’m sorry, Medda,” Jack replied. “I’ve been running staff training so I haven’t had-”

“It’s not usually done by the head counselor,” Medda continued, interrupting him. “This is assistant director stuff. His job is to handle admin things. What’s he been doing?”

Jack paused. “I… don’t actually know,” he admitted. But Pulitzer and Weisel stayed in their office, and Jack and Medda finished the forms, and before they knew it, parents were starting to pull up in cars full of kids and suitcases. Weisel came out to help with check-in, as well as the rest of the program leads, who had no reason to be at the cabins. Race was greeting, Crutchie was helping Medda with medication intake, and Jack was doing some of everything. He took a sick sort of pleasure out of assigning Oscar and Morris Delancey to lice checks.

 

Down at Flushing, David stayed at the top of the hill by the cabins with Romeo and Elmer as Specs and Albert helped parents carry luggage up the hill from the small parking lot outside Manhattan. They were supposed to help the boys find their bunk assignments and get settled in, and Specs gave them specific instructions to get rid of the parents as fast as possible. “The longer they stay,” he said before going down the hill, “The more the kid can think about how he’s about to be left, and the more likely it is that we have to deal with criers.”

David walked boys to their cabins, and once they were settled in and he had pried the parents away, he sent them to the fire circle near the bathhouse where Romeo and Elmer were ready with an introductory game. It was a well oiled machine that Specs and Romeo had practiced dozens of times, and that Elmer and Albert had been a part of for years. 

The day went smoothly until about half of the boys were there, when a scrawny kid named Teddy showed up. He was already crying upon arrival, and his mom wasn’t doing any good by talking about how much she was going to miss him, and how life wouldn’t be the same without him, and a bunch of other sentimental stuff that only made Teddy more emotional. David wasn’t exactly sure what to do. David could see Romeo gesturing for him to send Teddy over to the game circle, but try as he might, he could not get the kid’s mom to leave. 

“Why don’t you go play a game with Romeo and Elmer?” David asked awkwardly. 

Teddy looked up at him with watery eyes before screwing his face up and unleashing a loud wail. His mom started to cry then, too. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave him,” she whimpered. David secretly agreed. Yes, don’t leave him. Take him home, far away from here. The mother and son cried for a while longer before Teddy’s mom wrenched herself away, eyes red. “I have to go, baby. I have to. You have to do this.”

“I! Don’t!  _ Wanna _ !” Teddy screeched, balling up his fists and stomping his feet. David stood there uselessly with his hands hanging limply at his sides when finally, Romeo appeared, holding a half-finished lanyard.

“Hey, bro,” Romeo said coolly. “My name’s Romeo. What’s your name?”

“ _ Teddy _ !” the kid wailed.

Romeo nodded. “Cool name. Hey, Teddy. Do you know how to make a lanyard?” He held up the wad of plastic string that he was holding.

Teddy stared at the lanyard for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. 

“Want me to show you?” Romeo asked. Teddy sniffed loudly and nodded as Romeo handed the lanyard to him. “I’m teaching the rest of the guys over there. If you’ll say bye to your mom real quick, we can go do this. You can even have this one.”

Teddy wiped his snotty nose with his hand and turned to his mom. “I’m gonna go make a lanyard,” he said, as if he hadn’t been throwing a full blown tantrum forty-five seconds ago. “Bye, Mom.”

His mom tearfully hugged him goodbye and stared after her son as he walked with Romeo back to the group. “Can he call home every night before bedtime?” she asked.

David answered automatically with a stock answer that he had been taught during training. “We like to have the boys totally immersed in the camp experience. Calling home can actually be more harmful than good. If there are any emergencies, he can call, but otherwise, no. We would be able to keep you updated on his progress, though.” 

The woman looked concerned, and then nodded with a resigned expression. “That makes sense. Please just let me know if he gets too homesick.”

“Of course,” David said reassuringly. “Have a safe drive home.”

 

The rest of the afternoon was mostly free of incidents. A lot of the kids ran up to Specs and Romeo excitedly, but more or less ignored David, Albert, and Elmer. Finally, Specs and Albert came back up the hill with a suitcase and a burly eighth grade boy who had said goodbye to his parents at the bottom of the hill and was already running to catch up with a few of the other kids. “Marcus is our last one,” Specs said. Marcus got settled, and the group played games by the fire circle for a while.

Spec’s radio crackled with feedback before Jack’s voice came through. “Jack to Flushing,” Jack said.

Specs lifted the radio to his face. “This is Specs, go ahead.”

“You got all your boys?” 

“Yeah,” Specs replied.

“Alright, they can go for swim tests first. Have them ready at the pool by three.” Specs agreed and the radio fell silent for just a moment before Jack’s voice came over the radio again. “Jack to Spot.”

“Go ahead,” a deep New York accent replied. 

“You heard that?” Jack asked. “Flushing at three.”

Specs clapped his hands together twice. “You heard the man, boys. Go get ready for swim tests. I need you ready and outside by…” he looked at his watch. “2:50. That gives you twenty minutes to hang out. Go ahead.” The huge group of boys half-ran to their cabins to change. A lot of them changed right in the cabin, but some were self-conscious and went to the bathhouse. In the meantime, the counselors went back over the info sheets so they could put faces to names. They were supposed to know everyone’s name by bedtime. David surprised everyone, including himself, by being really good with the names, and was able to point out each kid as they ran past by name. 

“ _ How _ ?” Romeo asked in disbelief. He was constantly forgetting names or using the wrong ones. David shrugged. 

They gathered the boys, did a quick headcount, and then led them through the shortcut to the pool. They had only made it halfway before one kid, Carlos, started whining about having forgotten his towel. Elmer, Carlos, and Carlos’ buddy, Thomas, went back to the cabin. Three quarters of the way there, two boys were complaining about needing to pee. David had never understood the phrase “herding cats” before this point.

They finally made it to the pool, and five kids rushed to get in line for the bathroom while the lifeguards got set up. They were all here today, but would normally be spread out between the pool and the lake. Spot stood in wait, lifeguard tube held across his stomach, glaring menacingly at the campers. David almost wanted to go and tell him to get over it and lighten up, but a piercing glare from Spot dashed that idea. 

Once they were all ready, the boys took a seat at the picnic tables while Spot went over rules. “This is my pool, and you will follow my rules,” he barked. “Or JoJo’s, or Dutchy’s, or Boots’. If you need something that isn’t directly related to your safety, ask a counselor. There will be no running, no horseplay, no hanging onto the pool rope. If I blow my whistle once-” he did a quick blast on the whistle. “That means that I need your attention. You will stop what you’re doing and listen. If I blow it twice,” he whistled twice. “You’ll find your buddy so I can do a headcount. If I whistle three times, that means that there is an emergency and I don’t care what you’re doing, you will drop it and get out of the pool  _ immediately _ . That doesn’t mean do another flip or dive for a toy or jump in one more time. Got it?” The boys nodded silently. “If you don’t get out of the pool, I swear I’ll kick you halfway to the Queens cabin.”

“Spot…” Specs said in a placating tone. 

“They’re old enough to hear that,” Spot growled. 

He explained how the swim test would work before he and the other lifeguards started calling boys four or five at a time to do their tests. In the end, all but two of them passed- two boys couldn’t tread water, so the guards refused to pass them. 

 

As the last kid was sent on to his cabin, Race, Jack, and Crutchie piled into Jack’s golf cart. Race needed to drop a few supplies off at the pool and Crutchie needed a ride to the art hut. The Delancey brothers had left a few minutes earlier, and were now trudging past the dining hall. They dropped Crutchie off so he could prep a few lessons for the week before starting up the hill to the pool. The Flushing boys were still there, on their second to last group. Spot didn’t notice as they pulled up, as he was too busy yelling instructions. Race and Jack parked the golf cart just outside the pool and headed inside the fence. Race dropped off what he had brought in the storage room, and then met back up with Jack, who was talking to Specs.

“How’s it going?” Jack asked.

“Fine,” Specs replied. “Except that I’m pretty sure the kids all think that Spot’s going to murder them. What’s up with him today?” Jack shrugged noncommittally. “Did he say anything to you?” Specs asked Race. 

Race shook his head. “No idea,” he lied. 

Just then, the scrawny boy who cried all the way through check in, Teddy, let out a piercing scream. All of the adults there looked up in alarm and Specs took off to check on the situation, while Spot blew his whistle sharply. “ _ What is it? _ ” Boots asked from the sideline of the pool.

Teddy pointed to the corner of the pool. “There’s a frog,” he sobbed. 

Spot squared his shoulders. “A frog is not going to kill you,” he barked.

Jack watched as Davey knelt beside the pool, carefully scooping the frog out. He held it out for a few kids to see. “This is actually a toad,” he was saying. “You can look, but don’t touch it. He’s already scared enough.”

“My teacher said when toads get scared they pee on you,” a tough looking kid said. 

Davey nodded. “Yeah. He actually already did.”

The gathered boys laughed. “Won’t you get warts?” Teddy wailed.

“That’s a myth,” Davey told him. “There are some types of toads that secrete a poison, but they don’t live around here, and it’s not strong enough to do anything to people.” He carried the toad outside of the fence and released it into the grass before going to wash his hands off.

Race nudged Jack. “Dude. You’re drooling,” he muttered.

“I am not,” Jack protested. But there was something about the way Davey saved that toad, and even the snake the night before, that Jack wanted to see more of.

The lifeguards called the group of boys back to order and Race led Jack away from the pool. “Watch out,” Race warned as soon as they were back on the golf cart, heading back down the hill.

“You should talk,” Jack retorted, before thinking better of it. “Sorry.”

 

Race was going out of his mind. All day, Spot hadn’t so much as made eye contact with him, much less talked. Even without the physical relationship, Spot was probably Race’s best friend at camp, except for Jack. He didn’t want to lose the physical stuff. But more than that, he didn’t want to lose his friend. After Jack dropped Race off at Manhattan, he pulled out one of his cigarettes and went to the tv, where he flipped through the channels until finding Keeping Up With the Kardashians. Race settled into one of the couches, twitching his fingers against his knee. 

As he watched, he got more and more fidgety until finally getting up and going outside. He circled around behind the cabin to the brick wall and picked up a tennis ball that he kept here for this very purpose, which he started repeatedly firing at the wall. He caught it every time easily, even alternating between which hand he used, and slowly worked his way up the wall by hitting specific bricks. 

 

David came down the hill then with a pair of muddy swim trunks and an equally gross towel. One of his kids slipped in the mud and needed them washed in the laundry set in Manhattan. He could hear a rhythmic thumping coming from behind the cabin and circled around after dropping the clothes in the laundry to investigate. “Hey,” he said, startling Race enough that he missed the ball and had to jog to get it.

“Hey,” Race replied. He resumed his position by the wall and caught the ball twice without even looking.

“How did you do that?” David asked.

“What?”

“Catch the ball without looking at it?” 

Race shrugged. “It’s basic physics,” he explained, as if it were completely obvious. “If you know the force and trajectory of the ball, which I do since I’m the one throwing it, then you know where it’ll end up.”

“...Oh,” David replied, at a loss for words. “And why are you throwing a tennis ball at the wall?” 

Race sheepishly tossed the ball at the wall again, a gentle throw this time. His knuckles were starting to hurt. “I get fidgety when I have a lot on my mind,” he replied. “This helps.”

David nodded. “My ex used to be like that. Only he just carried around a pair of drumsticks, hitting everything that would sit still. It was annoying.”

Race perked his head up. “ _ He _ ?” he repeated. 

With a wry smile, David nodded. “Yeah. It’s not a secret, or anything- I’m gay. If you ever need to get something off your mind... “ he paused. “Anyway, I might understand more than you’d think. Gotta go.”

David started back toward Flushing without another word. “Thanks,” Race called weakly after him.

 

Being in charge was exactly what Jack wanted. But at the same time, camp had only officially been going for a couple of hours and he was already being run ragged by people calling on the radio. 

“Mush to Jack, can you bring me another copy of my roster?”

“Dutchy to Jack, can you bring some more bandaids to the pool?”

“Henry to Jack, what time is dinner again?”

“Crutchie to Jack?”

Jack lifted the radio up after switching Flushing’s laundry over to the dryer for them. “This is Jack, go ahead.”

“Jack, there’s a code yellow in the art hut.” 

Jack froze as he strolled out of the Manhattan cabin. Race popped out from behind the cabin. “Did he just say-”

“Yup,” Jack said. “Want to come?” Race dropped his tennis ball and they leapt into the golf cart. 

The camp used a number of codes to use over the radios, to avoid alarming the kids. Code orange was severe weather. Code red was fire. Code purple was snake. Code blue was serious illness or injury. Code black was missing camper.

Code yellow meant that there was some kind of animal in the art hut. “We’ll be right there.”

 

Crutchie stood outside on the deck of the art hut, waiting for Jack, and whoever “we” was, as a wild animal did who knows what in his art hut. It only took a couple of minutes before he could hear the golf cart pull onto the gravel road, and he spotted Jack and Race. “So, what kind of yellow are we talking about here?” Jack shouted as he parked. 

“You know that cupboard in the kiln room?” Crutchie asked.

“We don’t use that for anything, do we?” Jack asked, coming up the ramp with Race following.

“ _ We _ don’t,” Crutchie agreed. “But apparently a family of raccoons does.” 

Jack stopped short, and Race slammed into his back before collapsing in a fit of giggles. “You’re  _ joking _ .” 

“No joke,” Crutchie said. “Go around and check the window yourself.” 

Jack and Race tiptoed around the side of the building to the kiln room window, which was so high that they both had to stand on their toes to see in properly. Just like Crutchie said, there were two raccoons in there, sharing some kind of food.

“What are they eating?” Jack whispered to Crutchie, who was still waiting by the door. 

“A potato,” Crutchie replied.

Race looked incredulous. “Why the  _ fuck _ do the raccoons have a potato?”

“Potato stamps,” Jack and Crutchie said together. “I thought that could be my potato storage cabinet,” Crutchie continued. “But then I found those two and got out of there. And dropped all the potatoes.”

Jack and Race came back around to the front of the building. “Okay, what’s the plan?” Race asked.

Jack held up a hand. “I’m thinking.” He was silent for a long time before appraising his friends. “We’re not dressed to fight raccoons. This is a battle, boys. We’ve gotta suit up.”

“Wh-” Race started, but Jack shushed him, staring pointedly at his bare legs and sandals. 

“Want to get your foot bitten by a raccoon?” They all agreed and went back to Manhattan, where they quickly changed into long pants, sweatshirts, and closed toed shoes. Jack found work gloves in the supply closet, which they all put on, before speeding (as fast as the golf cart could speed) back to the art hut. Jack drove with his knees while he tied a red bandana across his forehead, headband style.

They arrived back at the art hut and appraised the situation through the glass doors. As far as any of them could tell, the raccoons were still in the kiln room having their potato feast. “We could set up a box, you know, the ones with a tripwire?” Crutchie suggested.

“Is there a box that big?” Jack asked.

Crutchie thought for a moment. “We could dump all the tie dye stuff out.” The tie dye supplies were in large plastic tubs near the middle of the main room. 

“Give me your crutch,” Jack said, holding out his hand.

“Why?”

“In case I need to swat them away.” Crutchie handed Jack his crutch and, just as he was about to go inside, Race dug into his backpack and withdrew a Slim Jim, which he handed to Jack. “What is this for?” Jack asked, eyeing the piece of jerky in his hand.

“Bait,” Race said simply. 

Jack unwrapped the Slim Jim and carefully inched his way inside. Slowly, never taking his eyes off the kiln room door, he emptied the tie dye box out and flipped it upside down. Jack grabbed a ruler and tied a piece of string to it before propping the box up and slipping the Slim Jim underneath.

“Get out of the way,” Crutchie hissed through the open door, and Jack jumped up onto one of the tables. He waited there for a minute, but the raccoons didn’t come out. 

“Try calling it,” Race suggested.

“How do you call a raccoon?”

“I don’t know! Just like… try making some weird noises?”

Jack nodded, took a deep breath, and then emitted a screech, a honk, a weird humming noise, some whistling, followed by something that sounded similar to a horse. Race and Crutchie, by this point, were both laughing so hard that they were in danger of wetting themselves. Still, the raccoons didn’t emerge. “You try, if you think it’s so funny!” Jack snapped at the guys outside. 

Race thought for a minute before rifling through his backpack. He withdrew a canister of spray sunscreen and slowly marched inside. Race hopped up on the same table as Jack, before saying “The floor is lava. Get ready.” Carefully, he maneuvered across the tables to the counter outside the kiln room, which he climbed onto. Planning ahead, he reached into one of the cabinets and withdrew a cookie sheet, which he intended to use as a shield if necessary. 

Inside the kiln room, the raccoons turned to stare at Race, but he immediately yelled “SMOKEBOMB!” and sprayed a steady stream of the sunscreen into the room. It settled around the raccoons and, sure enough, they darted. One ran straight past Jack out the door, where Crutchie was holding onto the railing, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t given Jack his crutch. It completely ignored him, though, and ran straight into the woods. 

The other raccoon, however, stopped dead in its tracks when it smelled the Slim Jim on the floor. Jack, Race, and Crutchie stood perfectly still while it sniffed around, finally strolling casually under the large box to investigate further. “Now!” Crutchie yelled, and Jack pulled the string on the ruler, dropping the box and trapping the raccoon underneath. With a triumphant whoop, he leapt from the table and held the box down, while at the same time tossing Crutchie his crutch. 

The guys gathered around the opaque plastic tub, laughing and celebrating their victory against the raccoons. “And Race was like, ‘SMOKEBOMB!’” Jack hooted while the other two clutched their sides. 

“The floor is lava!” Crutchie mimicked dramatically.

Under Jack’s hand, there was a thump against the box as the raccoon tried to paw its way out. “Uh, so here’s a question,” he said slowly. The other two collected themselves as much as possible. “We didn’t plan out how we were going to get this box out of here.”

The three boys stared at the box, which had no bottom and no way to be carried, for several minutes before collapsing into uncontrollable laughter again. 

Ten minutes later, the three of them slowly slid the box across the floor, inching their way to the door. When they got to the lip of the door, where the box couldn’t slide anymore, they backed away as much as possible without losing their grips on the box and, on the count of three, tilted the side facing the outdoor upwards, where the trapped raccoon dashed away into the woods in the same direction that the other had gone. 

“Boys,” Jack said, saluting. “It was an honor serving with you.”

Together, they marched to the dining hall, where David stopped in his tracks with a pitcher full of water. “What are you dressed like it’s forty degrees outside?” he asked, appraising them.

“War, Davey,” Jack said, tossing an arm, still wearing gardening gloves, over David’s shoulders. “War.”


	6. Moons and Stars and Sneaking Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tells a story. David learns that bedtime is not easy.

At dinner, all of the staff had been instructed to spread themselves out amongst the campers, unless they were having a meeting. “No counselor clusters,” Race had said. David took a seat at the same table as Mush, who was in charge of the youngest age group. They pretty much idolized Mush, and argued for a solid five minutes about who would get to sit next to him. Finally, he proposed a compromise- someone different could sit next to him at every meal, so that everyone would get a chance. The kids agreed that this was fair, but then spent several more minutes fighting about who got to sit there first before finally, Mush pulled out his roster, closed his eyes, and pointed to two names at random. 

It was really easy sitting with Mush. He was incredibly outgoing, and let the group through a few dinnertime games, which kept the kids distracted as they ate their chicken strips and macaroni. At the next table, it sounded like Race, who was still wearing a pair of gardening gloves for some reason, was quizzing the older boys he sat with with riddles. 

Across the cafeteria, Morris and Oscar sat at a table with Mr. Pulitzer and Weisel. None of them were talking, and Pulitzer seemed to be picking at a chicken strip with disdain. At the next table over, Spot and the other lifeguards were clustered together. 

Jack noticed that, too, and went over to the guard table, where David could see him talking to Spot. It looked like they were negotiating. Spot glared up at Jack and picked up his fork, shaking his head definitively. Even from just his back, David could tell that Jack was annoyed. 

The dining hall was loud with the roar of a hundred boys’ voices all talking at once, as well as the sound of silverware clinking against the plastic plates they used. Medda called for anyone with dinnertime medications to come see her, which signalled time to start cleaning up. Mush assigned a job for everyone at the table, including taking the dishes back to the kitchen, wiping the table, sweeping, and stacking the chairs.

After some of the commotion settled down, Jack yelled over the group to remind counselors of the opening campfire, which was set to begin once everyone was done in the dining hall. Counselors found their partners, gathered their groups, and did quick headcounts. Mush and his co-counselors had staked out a spot by the bathrooms, where the little kids were dashing in and out. “Okay,” Mush was saying. “Does anyone else need to go? Frankie, you went four minutes ago. How can you need to go again?”

The middle school boys were easy to wrangle by comparison. The Flushing staff counted, and then Specs led them to the camp’s amphitheater, down the hill next to the art hut. Race was already down there, building a huge fire. They had done a few mock campfires, which always consisted of a few skits and a story. For the first campfire, they would do staff introductions, but wouldn’t bother for the rest of the summer. 

After Jack called the camp to order and went over basic ground rules, the staff lined up for introductions. Most of what they said, David already knew from hanging out during staff training, but there were a few surprises. 

“Hi, I’m Specs, and I’m a dance major at NYU. I also play baseball.”

“I’m Skittery, and I’m fluent in American Sign Language.”

“My name’s Buttons and I’m a computer science major at Virginia Tech.”

David stepped up when it was his turn, saying “Hi, I’m David, and I’m a business major and, uh, I can play the piano.”

They went down the line for a while longer when Race, near the end, stepped up. “Hey, I’m Race. I just graduated from Princeton and I’m about to start my masters at MIT. And I really like Mario Kart.”

David laughed, but he was the only one. “He’s not kidding,” Crutchie muttered next to him. They finished up introductions and David took a seat back in the amphitheater with his group. Race took the empty spot next to him.

“Aren’t you twenty years old?” David asked Race, who nodded. “How have you already graduated?”

Race shrugged. “I skipped a few grades,” he said modestly.

“What’s your major?”

“Astrophysics,” Race replied seriously. David’s jaw dropped as he realized that somehow, this gambling, rambunctious, goofy guy was also some kind of genius rocket scientist. 

The staff went through a few skits, which the kids thought were hilarious, before the fire started dying down. The sun had fully set by this point and fireflies dotted the atmosphere, and Jack walked alone up to the front of the amphitheater, where he took a seat on the ground. “Can you guys hear me okay?” he asked in a soft voice. The kids, who were mystified into silence, nodded, and Jack started his story.

 

“A long time ago,” he said, “Before there were any people, the world just had animals. And a lot of those animals lived right here, at Camp Mountain Ridge. Back then, they didn’t have day and night. It was always daytime, and the animals played out in the sun all the time. For a long time, it was lots of fun. But you know how sometimes, when you’re with the same people all the time, you get tired of them, even if you really love them? That happened with the animals. The animals started arguing and fighting, and it got so bad that pretty soon, all they did was fight.

“One day, the great spirit decided that something needed to be done about it. The great spirit told the animals that they needed to work out their differences, and she took a huge black blanket and covered the sky. The sun disappeared and it became so dark that the animals could hardly see.

“They started to fight more, because everyone wanted to blame someone else for the sun being taken away. But eventually, they realized that they would have to work together to get it back. They climbed to the top of the mountain for a meeting, and the great bear spoke up. ‘I’m big and strong,’ the bear said. ‘I can pull the blanket down.’ The animals agreed, and the bear got a big running start, jumped, and…” Jack paused dramatically. “Missed and fell right back down the mountain. He was so embarrassed that he went into a cave and hid for a while, which is why bears hibernate now.

“The animals tried to come up with another plan. They were all talking over each other while a tiny, high voice kept saying ‘ _ Pick me! Pick me! _ ’ The animals ignored the voice and the cheetah stepped up. I bet you didn’t know cheetahs used to live around here, but they did. Trsut me. And they didn’t always have those spots, either. Back then, the cheetahs were pure gold. 

“The cheetah stepped up and said ‘I’m faster than any of you, and I’m a good jumper. I can  _ definitely _ get high enough to pull down the blanket.’ Like the bear, the cheetah got a good running start, jumped, and made it much higher than the bear. But she still missed, and went tumbling down the mountain. She got all bruised up on the way down, which is why cheetahs have all those spots now.

“The animals were getting worried. That little voice kept saying ‘ _ Pick me! Pick me! _ ’ but they still ignored it. The vulture flew over. He told them that he was able to fly, which made way more sense than jumping, and then animals agreed. The vulture stretched his wings and took off. He flew high and fast, but it turned out that he was actually going way  _ too _ fast, and he hit the blanket in the sky so hard that it busted a hole out. The sun was on the other side, though, and it burned the top of the vulture’s head. He flew back down, but ever since then, vultures are bald on the top of their heads.

“The vulture had made progress, though. It had been totally dark before, but now there was a perfectly round hole in the blanket, letting the light through. But they still wanted their daytime back. The tiny voice was still saying ‘ _ Pick me! Pick me! Pick me! _ ’ and the animals finally paid enough attention to see a tiny hummingbird fluttering nearby. ‘I’m not very big,’ the hummingbird said, ‘But I want to try! Maybe I can do some good!’ And even though the animals didn’t think the hummingbird would be able to do anything, they sent her up to the blanket in the sky.

“The hummingbird flew up as fast as her little wings would take her, and started poking holes in the blanket with her sharp beak. She poked as many holes as she could, working nonstop. It didn’t seem to be doing much good, and the hummingbird was getting frustrated. She kept trying, though, and poked thousands of holes in the blanket before coming back to the top of the mountain, exhausted. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,’ the hummingbird said.

“But the animals weren’t listening. They were all staring up to the sky, where thousands of pricks of light shone down. It was beautiful. They all congratulated the hummingbird, and told her how amazing it looked. The hummingbird’s tiny holes, and the big one made by the vulture, became the moon and stars that we have now.

“Just then, the great spirit spoke. ‘You all have worked together, and you’ve stopped fighting, so I’ll take the blanket off, like I promised.’

“But the animals stopped her. ‘Dont!’ they said. ‘We like it!’ With the great spirit’s help, they came up with a compromise. They would get the sun half of the time, and the blanket with all of the stars and moon would come back for the rest of the time. And that, kiddos, is why we have day and night.” Jack stood up, breaking the trance that had settled during the story. The camp applauded, and he bowed dramatically. “Okay, time for bed. Everyone find your counselors.”

The kids, some of whom were now very sleepy, were rounded up by their counselors, who herded them back to their cabins. David’s group walked back to Flushing, where they were instructed to shower and get ready for bed. They would get some cabin time, and the counselors would come to put them to bed later. 

 

David and the rest of the counselors went back to their cabin for a while. “Who’s doing wakeups?” Romeo asked. David apparently looked confused, so Romeo explained. “We usually split up mornings and bedtimes. Like, one person takes care of bedtime and the other wakes the kids up in the morning.”

“I’ll do mornings for my kids,” Specs volunteered. “I’ll be up anyway.”

“If you want,” Romeo volunteered, “I can wake our group up.”

David agreed wholeheartedly. He hated mornings. 

After a few minutes, Spec’s radio buzzed with feedback. “Jack to Flushing.”

“Go for Flushing,” Specs said. 

“Can you bring your kids with bedtime medicine down the hill to Medda?”

“On the way.”

David went around to each cabin and gathered the kids with bedtime medications. There were nine of them, plus David himself. For safety reasons, the staff had been required to give their medications to Medda. They walked down the hill together to the parking lot outside Manhattan, where Medda’s car was parked with the trunk open. She was operating what looked like a miniature pharmacy out of her car, and the kids lined up for her to give them their meds. “Staff box is up front,” she said to David as she assembled a kid’s inhaler. 

David went around to the passenger seat, where he found a ziplock bag with his name written on the front in Sharpie. He fished out a couple of pills and took them without any water. Jack sidled up then. “Want to come down to Manhattan later?” he asked. “I think some of us are going to play a game.”

“Maybe,” David replied. “I’m in charge of bedtime, so right after that.”

Jack laughed. “Did you volunteer to do bedtimes?” he asked.

“I mean, Romeo volunteered to do wake ups, and I hate mornings, so…”

Jack whistled. “You, sir, have been bamboozled.”

“What do you mean?” David demanded. 

“Bedtimes are the worst. You know what happens at bedtime?” David shook his head. “Kids realize that they’re away from home, they start thinking about their mom and their dad and their Xbox, and they get homesick. And then they start crying. And crying is contagious, so pretty soon, you’ve got a whole cabin of crying kids on your hands.”

“I’ve got older boys,” David pointed out. “I don’t think crying will be a problem.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “What? You don’t think middle school boys cry? Let me know how that works out for you. Besides,” he continued. “If they aren’t crying, they’re trying to sneak out of the cabins. Trust me. No matter how much you hate mornings, they’ll never be as bad as bedtimes.” 

David looked back to his campers, who were pretty much done with medicine. “I really hope you’re wrong.” He left then and gathered the group up before leading them back up the hill.

 

Jack wasn’t wrong. It took fifteen minutes just to get the kids lying down in bed, and then the tears started. It began with Teddy, and then spread to AJ, then Lucas, and then Quez. David did everything he could to stop the crying until only Teddy was left sniffling, but he was at least crying quietly, so David decided to just let the kid cry himself to sleep. As soon as the boys were quiet, he left the cabin and started toward his own cabin. Just as he got to the door to Flushing, the door to Greenwich, Teddy’s cabin, squeaked open. AJ poked his head out. “What is it?” David asked, trying to be quiet to avoid disturbing the other kids.

“I had a nightmare,” AJ said from the doorway. 

David stared at him in shock. “It’s been three minutes. You haven’t had time to have a nightmare.”

“Yeah-huh, I did!” AJ protested. 

David surveyed AJ, a tall seventh grade boy. “AJ, that isn’t how the human brain works. Go back to bed.” AJ slipped back into his cabin, slamming the door behind him, and David went inside his own. 

Their windows were open, so they could hear any kids coming and going, and the Flushing guys hung out, playing a game of Uno in the cabin. After about fifteen minutes, though, David saw a flash of light outside in his peripheral vision. “What…” he muttered, before going back outside. On the road, four boys were scurrying down the hill, whispering and laughing to each other. “Stop!” David commanded, shining his flashlight on them. The boys froze. “Get back up here.”

Slowly, they turned and trudged up the hill, and soon were close enough for David to see two of his own boys, Ben and Marcus, and two of the other group’s, Trey and Carlos. “Where do you think you’re going?” David asked.

“Bathroom,” Ben replied automatically.

David crossed his arms. “Ben, you told me that you’ve been coming here since you were seven years old. You know the bathroom isn’t down the hill. Bed. Now.”

The kids grumbled the whole way back to bed, but David watched them until they were back in their bunks. He went and got Albert and Elmer, and the three of them staked out spots on each of the cabins’ steps where they would know if any kids tried to escape again. David brought a book with him, which he read by flashlight, while Albert played a game on his DS and Elmer scribbled in a notebook. Specs and Romeo could be heard laughing in the cabin.

After forty-five minutes of constantly telling the boys inside the cabin David was guarding to turn their lights off and go to bed, he could see a tall figure coming up the hill, sans flashlight. Jack stepped into the light and took a seat next to David on the steps. “It’ll be easy,” he said in a teasing tone. “You’ll have nothing to worry about.” 

“Shut up,” David said, quietly enough that the kids inside couldn’t hear. “What happened to your game?”

Jack shrugged. “Race wanted to go try to talk to Spot and Crutchie gets really pissed off when he loses, so we stopped pretty early.”

“Oh,” David said simply. “By the way, I liked your story tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jack said with a grin. “It’s my favorite. This is my first year doing the story. Drowsy- our old director, you know- he used to do it.” Jack gestured to the book in David’s lap. “What are you reading?” David held up a copy of  _ Ready Player One _ . “What’s it about?”

“Basically this future where you can pretty much live out the real world in a video game, and there’s a hidden easter egg that people have been trying to find, and this kid goes after it,” David explained. He had read it before, but the book selection in Manhattan was pretty limited.

“Do you read a lot?” Jack asked. David nodded. “What’s your favorite book?”

“ _ The Lord of the Rings _ ,” David admitted. “What’s your’s?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not much of a reader. I’m dyslexic, so I’m not really that good at it.” 

The cabin had been quiet for a while, and Albert and Elmer got up to go inside, but Jack and David stayed outside, chatting. It was nothing groundbreaking. They discussed favorite movies and TV shows, sports (Jack was a football fan and David couldn’t care less about sports), video games, and pretty much everything else. David learned that Jack hated pickles and ketchup, and Jack found out that David was scared of heights and didn’t much like horses. Jack moved out of his parents’ house at sixteen and David played Quidditch his freshman year of college. Jack painted buildings for a living, but he was also an artist, and David was mostly fluent in French. 

They stayed outside until David couldn’t stop yawning, and Jack stood up. “Time for bed,” he said, extending a hand to help David up. 

“Good night,” they said together, before going their opposite directions.

  
As they fell asleep, they both had very similar trains of thoughts, which essentially boiled down to one word:  _ oops _ .


	7. Giant Pissbabies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race and Spot finally talk.

After the campfire, Jack and Crutchie set up a game of FIFA on the big tv in the Manhattan rec room. “You playing?” Crutchie asked Race.

Race was about to say yes before shaking his head. “Nah. You guys go ahead. I’ve got to go talk to Spot about something real quick.” Jack caught Race’s eye just before he left, as Crutchie chose his player. Race flicked his flashlight on and started the walk to the pool area, where Brooklyn was. He could see the lights on inside and, after climbing the hill, knocked on the cabin door. 

JoJo answered the door, and Race could see Spot on his bottom bunk, messing around on his phone. “Hey,” Race said. “Can I talk to Spot for a minute? Outside?” 

JoJo turned to Spot, who didn’t even look up from his phone. “I’m busy,” he said. 

“Great,” Race said sarcastically. “Can you get un-busy for a minute?”

Spot shook his head. “Nope. Make an appointment with my secretary.” He waved his hand toward JoJo.

“Dude,” JoJo said. “I’m not your secretary.” He turned back to Race. “Sorry.”

“No big deal,” Race replied. “I’ll catch up with Spot when he’s not being a pissbaby.” 

 

Race left and JoJo closed the door after him, going back to sit in the hammock that they had stretched across the cabin. “So, what’s going on?” JoJo asked.

Spot held up his phone. “I’m just checking Twitter.” They all knew that Brooklyn was the best cabin, particularly since it was the only cabin that got cell phone service. 

“No,” Boots said. “Why do you suddenly hate Race?”

“Worry about yourself, Boots,” Spot muttered.

The other lifeguards exchanged annoyed and concerned glances. They knew better than anyone how surly Spot could be, but they also knew better than anyone that he was surprisingly funny, loyal, and generous. But for the past few days, he had been none of those things. 

 

Race took his time going back to Manhattan, strolling slowly through the paths that ran through the woods all over camp. Too soon, though, he found himself back at his cabin, where Crutchie was playing video games by himself. Jack was gone. Crutchie invited Race to hang out, but it was getting late and Race had the beginnings of a plan that would make him get up pretty early, so he went to bed.

The next morning, Race’s early alarm went off, and he showered quickly. He went back to his room and was just putting on his shoes when Jack sulked in sleepily and flopped down on the other bunk. “I did something dumb, Race,” Jack groaned.

Race looked up in alarm. “What did you do?”

“I went and hung out with Davey last night.” Race rolled his eyes. “He’s really great.” 

“No, Jack,” Race said forcefully. “You have got to shut that shit down.”

“ _ Why _ ?” Jack whined.

Race sighed. “Because if you hook up and it doesn’t work out halfway through the summer, you’ll still sort of be his boss.”

Jack frowned, pouting. “That’s not the problem, though. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even like guys.” 

Race considered telling Jack that Davey was gay. After all, he had said that it wasn’t a secret. But he knew that if Jack knew that he could even possibly have a shot, it would only encourage him. “Yeah, probably,” he finally said. “Even if he does, it’s not a good idea to get involved with other counselors, and you know it.”

“You should talk,” Jack retorted.

“Yeah,” Race said, nodding. “Because  _ that _ situation is working out  _ so _ well right now. Besides, we aren’t serious. You, on the other hand, always fall too hard.” 

“You aren’t serious?” Jack asked incredulously. “I’m kind of having a hard time believing that, given how miserable you’ve both been the past few days.”

“Whatever.” He stood up and slung his backpack onto his shoulders. “Anyway, I’m going to go try to deal with that. I’ll see you later.” He walked out, leaving Jack alone in his room, and started off toward the pool. As he passed cabins, he could see signs of counselors waking campers up, but they still had a while before breakfast. He climbed the pool hill, past Brooklyn, where Boots and Dutchy were still asleep, and JoJo was checking his phone after his run. 

The gate to the pool was open, and Race could see Spot kneeling next to the pool, checking the water quality and cleaning out the filters. It had to be done every day, and as aquatics director, that was Spot’s job. His phone, whistle, and radio were on the picnic table. Race snuck up, grabbed Spots things, and tossed them into the storage room, which he closed up and locked. 

Spot spun around when he heard the door slam shut. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

“I locked your stuff in the storage room,” Race said smugly. “I have the key, and you can have it after we’ve talked.”

Spot glared. “You’re going to make us late to breakfast.”

“You never eat breakfast and you know it.”

There was a long pause. “Fine. Talk,” Spot finally conceded.

“Why are you freaking out?” Race asked. “Who cares that Davey and Jack caught us?”

“Jack, I don’t care about so much,” Spot admitted grumpily. “But we don’t know Davey. We don’t know that he’s not going to tell anyone.”

“He’s  _ gay _ !” Race exclaimed.

Spot blinked awkwardly. “How do you know that?”

“He told me so.”

“Oh. Still, it doesn’t change anything. This-” Spot pointed his fingers between himself and Race, “-wasn’t sustainable.”

“It was sustainable for two years,” Race pointed out, crossing his arms. 

Spot sighed. “Two  _ summers _ . Not two  _ years _ . Race, I had a girlfriend this year. For a pretty long time.”

Race didn’t want to admit how much that stung, so he pushed on. “Do you  _ still _ have a girlfriend?”

“No,” Spot admitted.

“Then how does that matter?”

“ _ Race _ !” Spot yelled. “This is  _ over _ ! Okay?”

It felt like he had been slapped in the face. “Why are you so pissed off all the time?” Race asked quietly. 

“You know why,” he spat. “And you know I don’t want to talk about it.”

They caught eyes for a moment for the first time in days, and Race found himself closing the gap and pressing his lips to Spot’s. Spot kissed him back for a couple of seconds, before pushing him away. “Stop,” Spot said.

“Sorry,” Race muttered, then heaved a sigh. “I’m not asking you to be in love with me or anything. That’s never what this has been about. You know that. We don’t even have to keep messing around if you don’t want to anymore. That can be over. But don’t just decide we can’t be friends anymore.” He tossed the key to the storage room to Spot before turning and walking away, by himself, to the dining hall for breakfast.

 

Jack was worried about Race. To be fair, he had been worried about Race for a few days now, but before, he had been down. Now, he looked like he had been crushed. Race, who usually vacuumed up every bit of food in sight, was just slowly pushing his eggs around his plate while kids laughed and talked around him. His head hung low and he didn’t look up from the table even once. The other counselors noticed too, and at least five people stopped by Jack’s seat to quietly ask what was going on with him. As soon as the kids had been dismissed to their first activities, Jack grabbed Race and pulled him over to a secluded part of the dining hall. 

“What happened?” he asked.

Race shrugged. “Nothing. It’s over.”

Jack studied Race, who wouldn’t even make eye contact with him. Race was always so full of bravado. He never liked to show any vulnerability. Jack could practically see him building a wall up as they spoke. Without a word, Jack grabbed Race and pulled him into a strong hug, which Race eventually returned. “He doesn’t even want to be my friend anymore,” Race mumbled over Jack’s shoulder. 

“I’m really sorry,” Jack said as they pulled apart. “This is my fault.”

“No,” Race protested. “This would have happened eventually. Apparently we weren’t ‘sustainable’.”

 

Spot was miserable. He knew it, and so did everyone else. After his fight with Race, Spot stayed at the pool, letting his feet dangle in the deep end while the rest of the camp was down the hill having breakfast.

Pushing Race away when he kissed him had been one of the hardest things he had had to do in a long time. The only thing harder, at the moment, was staying away from Race, especially seeing the look on his face when he told Race that it was over. He didn’t want to go back to work, or let Race go to breakfast. He wanted to grab him and tell him that he didn’t mean it, that he was sorry. 

Sustainability wasn’t the problem, even though Spot had even tried to convince himself of that. The real problem, as he was starting to realize, was how hard it was to stay away from him. The problem was that Spot sometimes had dreams where he and Race weren’t even doing anything. They were just holding hands and being grossly domestic. For Spot, this had gone way beyond making out because they were bored and there were no girls around. And he wasn’t, and couldn’t be gay.

His girlfriend, Cassie, had been great. They had so much fun. She was understanding, and hot, and funny, and a really good kisser. Spot wanted to love her, but he couldn’t. There was one particularly bad night when they had been drinking, and Cassie told him that she loved him. Spot broke down crying, for the first time he could ever remember in front of another person, and explained that he just couldn’t say it back and he didn't know why. They broke it off not long after. 

And then he came back to camp and Race was there in the admin building, dealing him into a card game without even saying hi, like they hadn’t just spent nine months apart. Race made Spot question everything just by existing. Every time he did something ridiculous, or said something shockingly intelligent, or challenged Spot to a bet, he felt like he was sinking to the bottom of the deep end of the pool. Their stolen moments in the woods or the kitchen or the storage closet or the cabin or… anywhere, really… they didn’t just confuse him. They made his head spin.

The first time they kissed had been a dare while they were playing a game on a weekend off with a few other counselors. _ “I dare you to kiss Spot,” Rainy had said. Spot jerked his head up and protested loudly, but everyone else talked him into going with the flow. Race leaned over and lightly pecked Spot on the lips, quickly enough that it could have been totally platonic, and the other counselors yelled, saying that it didn’t count. _

_ “Fine,” Race had said before grabbing Spot by the back of the head and kissing him, for real, just for a moment. Spot wiped his mouth dramatically and scowled when they pulled apart and Race, smirking, held out his hand, into which Rainy deposited a dollar.  _

_ After the game, Race and Spot were walking back to the cabin that they shared at the time, back when they were both just counselors, when Spot grabbed Race by the arm and dragged him off the road into the woods. He pulled Race in close and kissed him again, which Race responded to eagerly. “This is just physical,” Spot mumbled against Race’s lips. “Nothing else. We’re just-” he stopped when Race dove in again.  _

_ “Casual,” Race agreed. “Making out as friends. It’s not weird.”  _

But now, Spot was right. It  _ was _ over. It didn’t have to be over, but he had ruined any chance with Race, even as friends. He heard a group coming up the hill to the pool after breakfast, splashed his face with water, and put on a fierce face, ready to work. 


	8. Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and David take a break, and David puzzles everyone with a riddle.

David’s group was scheduled for time in the art hut after breakfast, so he and Romeo gathered their campers and led them down the hill, where they waited for Crutchie. Eventually, Jack and Crutchie pulled up in Jack’s golf cart, the back of which was full of construction supplies. Before they let the kids in, Jack stepped up front. “Let me go in and check things out first,” he said.

“Why?” Romeo asked. 

Jack and Crutchie exchanged a look. “No reason.” They all waited as Jack went into the art hut and checked something in the kiln room, before motioning for everyone to come inside. Jack went back out and grabbed a piece of plywood, a drill, and a box of screws before disappearing back into the kiln room. 

The campers took their seats at the tables scattered around the room while Crutchie limped around, passing out materials for them to make paper mache. The good thing about the art hut was that it was sort of a break for the counselors. Crutchie was happy to take care of everything, as long as the group didn’t get out of hand. Romeo cut himself some string and started making a bracelet, and David wandered back to the kiln room, where Jack was on his knees with his head in a cabinet. 

“What are you doing?” David asked. 

Jack jumped and hit his head on the top of the cabinet. He pulled himself, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ve had kind of a raccoon problem in here,” he said. “And we couldn’t figure out how they were getting in until we found this hole behind the cabinet, so I’m going to patch it up.” Jack disappeared back into the cabinet and continued working while David watched. He couldn’t help but notice how broad Jack’s shoulders were- he had never paid much attention before, but Jack was wearing a tank top, so they were hard to ignore. “Pass me a couple of screws,” Jack said, holding out his hand.

David reached into the box by his feet and grabbed two screws, which he deposited into Jack’s outstretched palm. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of drilling as Jack ran a screw into the wall. Back in the main room, Crutchie gestured for Romeo to close the kiln room’s door, so he didn’t have to yell over the sound. 

The camp used to have a couple of maintenance guys. If things broke, or if there were random holes in the wall, you would call them. But when Pulitzer was hiring the staff for the summer, he decided that they weren’t necessary- the staff could take care of things. So a lot of Jack and Race’s jobs consisted of running around unclogging toilets and patching holes.

Jack kept himself busy for a few minutes, but it didn’t take long for the board to be securely screwed in place. “There we go,” Jack said, reaching in and tugging on the edges of the board. “It’s not great, and it’s definitely not weather proof, but it should keep raccoons out.” He leaned back on his heels and started packing the tools away. “So, Davey. How are you liking being a counselor?”

David shrugged. “It’s good. Except we got woken up twice in the middle of the night.”

“Nightmare?” Jack guessed.

David laughed. “I wish. Adam wanted to know if he could go fill up his water bottle and Rashad wanted to know what time breakfast was.”

Jack grinned. “Gotta love it. What time’s your break? You could go take a nap or something.”

“It’s at three,” David replied. “But I’m not good at napping. I end up sleeping through to the next day.”

An outburst of yelling came from the main room, and David rolled his eyes and went to go investigate. (Apparently Teddy, of course, had gotten glue on his shorts.)

 

Later that day, David left his group at canoeing, and wandered over toward his cabin for a break. At the bottom of the hill, Jack’s hammock was strung up between two trees. Jack was lying on his back, sketchbook propped against his knees as he drew. “What are you drawing?” David asked. 

Jack sat up in the hammock. “Nothing,” he said, before checking his watch. “Is it your break time now?” David nodded. “Want to hang out?” He sat horizontally in the hammock, legs hanging off the side, and made room for David to sit next to him.

“What, share?” David asked skeptically. “Can it even hold both of us?”

“Totally,” Jack replied. “These things are strong.” 

David clumsily climbed into the hammock, mimicking Jack’s posture. The hammock could technically their weight, but there were both pretty big guys, and found themselves sitting so close that it was hard to tell when one one of them began and another ended. They both cracked up and tried to move apart, but gravity kept sending them right back to the same spot. “I think this is just our life now,” Jack said. His entire right side was pressed up against David’s left, almost uncomfortably close. 

“We’re stuck forever,” David agreed. Without warning, he grabbed Jack’s sketchbook and flipped it over, revealing a drawing of the scene in front of them, including the road, the flagpole, the trees, and the mountain looming in the distance. “This is really good,” he said.

“It’s just copying,” Jack replied modestly. “Besides, you should know that it’s not polite to look through people’s sketchbooks without permission.”

David shrugged, jostling Jack’s shoulder as he did so. “If it’s just copying, then I should be able to do this just as well as you, and I’ll tell you right now, I can’t.” 

They hung out in the hammock for a while, chatting aimlessly. “Why did you decide to come work here?” Jack asked, staring down at their touching knees. 

“I needed a summer job, but also for housing. I was living with my boyfriend and we broke up, and I hadn’t gotten around to finding another place, so I figured I’d put it off till the new semester.”

Jack jerked his head up from their knees to study David’s face. “Your boyfriend?” he asked in shock.

“Yeah,” David said, like it was obvious. “I figured you already knew. Race knows, and the guys in my cabin all know. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” Jack said with a laugh. “I mean, I’m bi, so I can’t really say anything.”

“Really?” David asked with interest, and Jack nodded. The silence that followed was deafening, and they both seemed to realize that they were practically sitting on top of each other. 

“Sorry about your boyfriend,” Jack said awkwardly, but David waved him off.

“Don’t be. Things had been going downhill for a while. We were kind of only living together still because we didn’t want to break our lease. I think we were both relieved when it ended. I was.”

“Are you dating anyone now?”

“No,” David replied, shaking his head. “You?” Jack shook his head, as well, and David continued. “But Katherine-”

“Katherine’s a really good friend,” Jack said quickly. “We were together for like, six months, but we work better as friends.”

“Who occasionally make out in movie theaters,” David added.

“You saw that, huh?” Jack asked, blushing slightly.

“ _ Everyone _ saw,” David said with a laugh. “I think the only people more nauseating than you two were Albert and his girlfriend.” Jack bumped David’s shoulder, just before his radio went off.

“Skittery to Jack.”

“Go ahead.”

“One of the horses got out again.” 

Jack groaned. “Okay. I’ll be right there. Make sure the other horses are secure.” He rolled his eyes and faced David. “They keep forgetting to lock the gates.”

“How do you get the horse back?” David asked. 

“They’re scared of the golf cart,” Jack replied. “I basically just herd them back inside.” He hopped down from the hammock with some difficulty, and David slid down to where Jack had been sitting. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

Jack hopped back onto the golf cart, and David laid back in the hammock after pulling his book out of his backpack, and spend the rest of his two hour break reading.

David meandered back to his group just before five o’clock, where they were just finishing up at archery. Oscar Delancey was trying his best to explain how to shoot to Teddy, who kept pointing his bow and arrow at people when he wasn’t paying attention. “Thank god you’re back,” Romeo said from where he was gathered with the rest of the group. Because of the individual attention needed for archery, there was a lot of sitting around for the guys who weren’t up to shoot. “Help me occupy these nuggets,” Romeo pleaded.

David froze, unsure of how to occupy a group of middle school boys if Romeo couldn’t do it. “I like coffee but I don’t like tea,” he finally said. 

Romeo frowned. “Sorry, what?” The boys gathered there mimicked his confused expression. 

Finally, one of the kids, Ben, yelled “I know this one!”

David nodded. “Awesome. But don’t give it away.” He turned to face the group. “I like coffee but I don’t like tea. What else do I like and not like?”

“You like… waffles but you don’t like pancakes,” Romeo said slowly.

“Nah, pancakes are okay.”

“He likes cars but he doesn’t like trucks,” Ben said. 

David made a face. “ _ Hate _ trucks.” 

The boys took turns making guesses. Occasionally, someone would accidentally stumble across a correct answer, like when Marcus guessed that he liked juice but hated water, but no one except for David and Ben knew the rule. They passed the rest of archery quickly this way, with the rest of the group taking their turns with the bow, and then walked to the dining hall, peppering David with questions.

“You like grass but you hate flowers.”  
“Nope.”

“You like chocolate but you don’t like caramel.”

“No.”

“You like caramel but you don’t like chocolate?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know.”

David found a seat at an empty table in the dining hall and were joined soon by Jack, Race, and a bunch of the boys from his group, who kept trying to guess what he did and didn’t like. Jack and Race got really into it, throwing their own questions out.

“I’ve got it,” Race said smugly after a few ‘yes’ answers. 

“Don’t tell,” David warned. 

Jack was starting to get frustrated and whiny. “Tell  _ me _ ,” he moaned, as the middle school group around him laughed at the head counselor. “Davey, please. If we’re friends you’ll tell me!”

David fixed Jack with a stern look before turning to his campers. “This, boys, is an example of peer pressure. But I’m not going to tell him, because peer pressure is bad.”

“Yeah, Jack,” AJ jeered. “I like houses but I don’t like walls?”

“Nope.”

Jack walked with David’s group to the lodge after dinner, where all the middle school boys would be watching a movie. By this point, about seven of the twenty-five boys knew the rule. David suspected that Ben told his friends, since they all suddenly seemed to get it. 

“I like chips but I don’t like potatoes,” Jack said.

“Yes,” David replied. “Why?”

“I don’t know!” he groaned in frustration. “I like plates but I don’t like bowls.”

“No.”

“I like cats but I don’t like dogs.”

“ _ Jack _ ,” David laughed.

“I’m not going to stop until you tell me,” Jack said stubbornly.

David shook his head. “Then you better get a bunch of guesses ready, because I’m not telling you anything.”


	9. Winning and Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Racetrack has an idea. It's not a good one. Spot and Davey talk.

Late that night, after another minor horse related emergency, a maintenance problem in the dining room, and a behavioral problem with the high school boys, Jack dragged himself into Manhattan and dropped his backpack by the door. “Honeys, I’m home,” he called out into the building, assuming that Crutchie and Race were there. 

Crutchie and Race were hanging out in the rec room where the Kardashians were playing on the TV. Race was messing with a Rubik’s Cube. Jack quickly checked the other rooms of the building to make sure that they were alone. Once he was satisfied that there was no one else in the building, Jack started pacing, blocking the other guys’ view of the tv. “Crutchie,” Jack started. “Time to catch you up. I have a crush on Davey. Okay, you’re caught up.”

“Yeah,” Crutchie replied, trying to see past Jack so he could watch Khloe confronting Rob. “It’s really obvious. Can you stop blocking the TV?”

“I’m choosing to ignore that you said that,” Jack said, but he stopped pacing and stepped out of the way. “But the thing is-” he turned on his heel and pointed accusingly at Race. “He’s gay! And you knew!”

“Mhmm, sure,” Race said distractedly, fiddling with the Rubik’s Cube without looking away from the TV. He had almost solved it. “Wait,” Race finally said as the show cut to a commercial. “What makes you think I know?”

“He told me,” Jack said simply. “But like, if  _ he’s  _ gay, and I’m  _ sort of  _ gay…”

“No. We have discussed this!” Race argued. He threw the now finished Rubik’s Cube at Jack’s head, but Jack dodged and it bounced off of the couch behind him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack asked.

“I’m guessing because he didn’t want you moping around for the last month of camp like you did with Bucket,” Crutchie supplied.

“I wasn’t moping,” Jack argued.

“You slept outside on the observation deck every night, except for when it rained, when you slept in the art hut,” Crutchie countered. “Just so you wouldn’t have to see him.”

“That wasn’t why!” Jack protested.

“Jack.”

“Fine. But it’ll be different.”

Race pointed to his Rubik’s Cube. “Will you toss me that?” Jack did. “Thanks.” With no warning, Race lobbed it at Jack again, and it bounced off his shoulder. “Will you shut up? Khloe is going through some stuff and I am  _ trying  _ to listen!” He gestured to the TV, where Khloe Kardashian was crying on the phone while lounging next to her pool. 

Properly chastised, Jack sat mostly quietly while Crutchie and Race watched the episode. Occasionally, he would toss out an “I like coffee but I don’t like tea” guess, but according to Race, he didn’t get any of them right. Finally, the episode ended and Crutchie got up to shower before bed, leaving Race and Jack alone.

“I’m going to win this breakup,” Race said out of the blue.

Jack looked up in alarm. “First of all, what are you talking about? Second of all, does this really count as a breakup?”

Race shrugged. “It might as well be! But you know, in a breakup- or an… ending of a certain type of relationship- there’s always one person who ends up doing better. They win the breakup.”

“Race, buddy,” Jack said with a frown. “I’m not exactly an expert on this, but that’s not healthy. You don’t win a breakup, you just get over it however you can.”

“I’m over it!” Race insisted. “I’m just-”

“Yeah,” Jack scoffed. “You sound super over it.”

“Whatever. What should I do?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Jack insisted. “You should just go on with your life and let it go.”

“You’re being very mature about this,” Race said thoughtfully. “You’re not supposed to be the mature one so I’m going to completely ignore everything you’re saying.” He turned the TV off and stood up. “Good night.” Jack shook his head and went off to get ready for bed. 

He went in to brush his teeth after Crutchie got out of the shower. “Going to bed?” Crutchie asked. Jack nodded with a mouth full of toothpaste. “Don’t sleep outside tonight. It’s supposed to rain.” Jack spit out his toothpaste. 

“Thanks, Dad,” he said affectionately before ruffling Crutchie’s wet hair. They went back to their shared room and settled into their bunks before facing each other to chat. 

“What’s up with Race?” Crutchie asked.

Jack hesitated. “I really shouldn’t say. I promised him I wouldn’t.” He groaned. “I hate not being able to talk to you!”

“I get it,” Crutchie replied. “Don’t tell me anything you’re not supposed to. Tell me what’s going on with Davey.”

Jack sighed. “Only if you promise not to tell me it’s a bad idea. I’ve already heard from Race like, fourteen times.” 

“Fine,” Crutchie said reluctantly, and Jack set off talking about Davey, about how smart he was, and how good with animals he was, and how awkward he could be. “You’ve got a really stupid smile,” Crutchie commented. “I hope things work out for you.”

“Crutchie,” Jack sighed. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best?”

“I could always stand to hear it a little more.”

 

The next morning, David woke to a steady downpour. Romeo and Specs hadn’t gotten the kids up yet- they needed to come up with a plan to entertain them during the day. Specs had still gone for his morning run, and checked the weather on his phone. “It’s supposed to keep up until like, four in the morning tomorrow.” 

“That kind of messes with the campout,” Albert said, puzzling over his copy of the schedule. The radio was abuzz with counselors trying to change their plans at last minute. There was no way anyone would be able to go to canoeing, the barn, archery, or the pool. The high school boys wouldn’t be able to go on their hike, and the little kids would have to cancel their kickball game. The art hut had already been claimed for the entire day, so that option was out, and they couldn’t just have the kids watch movies all day. 

“Is it supposed to thunder?” David asked Specs.

“No,” Specs replied. “Just a lot of rain.” 

“I mean, that’s not dangerous. We could have a water balloon fight?”

“Good idea,” Elmer said. “And we could just do the campout in the lodge. It’s big enough that we can just set up the tents inside and do the cookout on the fireplace inside.” 

Specs called Jack on the radio to claim the lodge for the campout, and they finished planning the day, which would still consist of a  _ lot _ of free time for the boys. 

 

Race woke up that morning with a fire inside him, ready to win the breakup. “Morning, boys,” he said, slapping Jack and Crutchie’s shoulders as they got ready in the bathroom. “Great day, isn’t it?”

“It’s pouring outside,” Crutchie pointed out. Jack was already stressed near the point of breaking, answering a different radio call every other minute. 

“We’re just living in the water cycle,” Race said jovially, before grabbing his backpack and rain jacket and strolling out into the rain. 

At breakfast, he boldly sat down at a table full of lifeguards, including Spot himself. They all looked up in surprise when Race put his tray full of bacon and eggs down on the table, but didn’t say anything in front of the kids there. Even though JoJo, Boots, and Dutchy didn’t know what was going on, it was obvious to everyone that something was off. Race and Spot usually hung out every night, playing Mario Kart or cards, and they hadn’t seen him at all. Spot had been avoiding Manhattan, too. He needed to get something out of Manhattan the day before, and sent Boots in instead of going himself.

Race made casual conversation with JoJo while shoveling bacon into his mouth, and Spot got up abruptly to go to the staff coffee bar, where he spent entirely too much time making a black coffee. “What’s up?” Jack asked Spot, sidling up to the coffee bar.

“Nothing,” Spot said, a little bit too quickly. 

“You good?”

Spot shrugged. “I’m great,” he lied. In reality, he had been in his head entirely too much in the past few days. Ever since his fight with Race, Spot had withdrawn into himself. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but Spot needed someone to talk to. Race had Jack. Spot and the guards were extremely close. They were his brothers. But none of them had any idea about his and Race’s relationship. And he was losing his mind.

 

David had an early break that day, right after breakfast. He had originally planned on going to the art hut to check his phone, but after seeing Mush herding his huge group of little kids inside, turned and started up the hill to the pool instead. 

Spot was there, skimming the pool with the long net in the pouring rain. He didn’t notice David coming until he shut the gate behind him. “What are you doing?” Spot asked.

David took a seat at the picnic table. “I’m on break, wanted to get caught up with the internet.” Spot nodded and went back to work. There was really no reason for him to be cleaning the pool right now- it was windy enough that it wouldn’t be worth it until the storm was over. But it gave him time to think. 

As David was scrolling through Facebook a few minutes later, Spot took a seat across from him at the table. He didn’t say anything. “What’s up?” David finally asked awkwardly. He had no problem with Spot, but they had never really spent any time together and, frankly, Spot intimidated him.

Spot looked distressed. “How’d you know you were gay?” he finally asked. “I mean, you are, aren’t you?”

David raised his eyebrows. “I mean, there wasn’t any specific moment,” he said. “I guess I finally figured it out when I was watching soccer with my cousin.”

“Soccer?” Spot repeated.

David smirked slightly. “My cousin and I both played soccer at the time. It was pretty short lived on my end. He kept talking about how he wanted to be like the soccer players, right? I just kept thinking about how every soccer player on earth is incredibly hot.”

“You’re kidding.” 

David shook his head. “I’m not. Go and look it up. I realized that day that I don’t like soccer, I like soccer  _ players _ .”

Spot crossed his arms and leaned down on the table. “I just never thought I could be gay,” he said uncertainly. 

David was struck by how uncomfortable Spot seemed. “You know gay and straight aren’t the only options, right?” he asked. “It all exists on a spectrum.”

“I know that!” Spot snapped. “But I just… like…” he groaned.

“You can talk to me, you know,” David said. “I know we’re not best friends or anything, but I’m not going to go telling the entire camp.” Spot buried his face in his arms and mumbled something. “What?” 

He tilted his head a little bit so that David could hear, but still didn’t look up. “I’ve just never liked girls like that but I thought it was just because I was busy. I didn’t even like my girlfriend and she was  _ perfect _ .”

Spot was obviously really torn up about this. “Have you talked to Race?” David asked.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Spot said with a scowl. “Besides, he’s fine. He’s obviously over it. Seriously, do you think I’m gay?”

David held up a hand. “That’s up to you to figure out. I can’t tell you.”

Spot nodded, and neither of them said anything for a while. David went back to scrolling through his phone while Spot traced the lines of the wood grain in the table with his fingernail. “I’ve got to get going,” David said after a while, and packed his phone away in a Ziplock bag so it wouldn’t get soaked in the rain. He was just heading out of the gate when Spot stopped him.

“David, wait.” David stopped, pulling his hood up to keep his head dry and turned back to Spot. “I think I am.”


	10. The Battlegrounds of Camp Mountain Ridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Flushing unit has a battle, followed by an indoor campout.

Getting to use a golf cart everywhere at camp was a great privilege, and Jack loved not having to climb every hill at camp, especially since he generally had to be in about twelve different places at once. But using the golf cart in the rain was absolutely terrible. There was no coverage and he was just getting more and more soaked. 

He had just finished up a meeting with Pulitzer and Weisel about how the week was progressing and the supply order that needed to be made and was driving around, checking in on the different units. Rainy days were rough on everyone.

Most of the units were hanging out in the art hut, cabins, or lodge, but Jack found the Flushing unit in the big field by the barn. All of the counselors carried huge plastic tubs full of water balloons, which they positioned strategically around the field while the kids picked teams. Jack pulled up and parked the golf cart, pulling the hood up on his rain jacket as he did so. No one in the field was wearing a rain jacket. They were just getting soaked.

Specs stepped up to the middle of the field, between the two groups of boys, where he stood at attention like a drill sergeant, with the other counselors flanking him on either side. “Soldiers!” he barked. “Today, we go to battle. Soon, the sky will be littered with the shrapnel of water balloons, and some of you may get soaked. More so than we already are since the sky decided to open up. But we are still brothers, soldiers. There will be no throwing water balloons at heads or sensitive areas. You all know what I’m talking about.” A giggle rippled through the group. “Accidents happen, but if you accidentally hit someone in one of the aforementioned areas, you earn yourself a quick timeout in the penalty box.” He gestured to a chair that they had taken from the barn. “You will wait until my counselors and I are out of range, and then give it all you’ve got, on my ready.” 

He and the other counselors marched dramatically to the sidelines and Specs fished a whistle that he had borrowed from one of the lifeguards from under his shirt. “Ready… get set…” he blew the whistle sharply, and the boys rushed to the buckets of balloons, throwing them wildly. 

Jack stood off to the side, laughing to himself. Specs was a great counselor. They were the same age, two of the oldest staff members there, and had been campers together. They had never been best friends, but they got along really well. The counselors stood together, supervising, for a while, before the boys decided to mutiny and turn on them. Pretty soon, twenty-five middle school boys were lobbing water balloons through the air at them, which the counselors did their best to catch in the air and throw back.

Jack ran out into the field with them, yelling that “reinforcements have arrived, fellow adults!” They ran all over the field, six counselors against twenty-five kids, until there were only twelve water balloons left. Jack, David, Romeo, Albert, Elmer, and Specs each held one and AJ, Marcus, Ben, Carlos, Anthony, and Teddy held the rest. They stared each other down for a few seconds before attacking all at once. The boys declared a victory against the counselors and ran a victory lap around the field, celebrating. 

Just as they turned the final corner around the field, Teddy slipped on the wet ground, falling face first into the mud and sliding a couple of feet. Everyone froze, expecting a tantrum as Teddy stood up, appraising the front of his clothes, which were completely covered in goopy brown mud. It was like the entire group was holding in a collective breath until Teddy laughed heartily, wiping mud from his face. “Alright!” Romeo yelled, before running to the same spot where Teddy had slipped and throwing himself to the ground, starting a long line of kids and counselors alike sliding on their stomachs through the mud. 

The last person to slide was Jack, who was trying to decide if head counselors were supposed to slide around in the mud. David spotted him off to the side, soaking wet but perfectly clean, and approached Jack casually. “Not into sliding?” he asked.

“It’s not that, it’s just- ah! No!” David grabbed Jack and hugged him, smearing him with mud, and soon all of the counselors had a hold on him. Even without sliding, by the time they were done, Jack was just as muddy as everyone else. 

Specs held his glasses up to the sky, hoping that the rain would help get some of the mud off, but it was no use. “Okay, gents,” he said to the group, who were all kind of shivering by this point. “We had free time scheduled next anyway, so let’s get back to the cabin. Shower and bring your muddy stuff to the counselor’s cabin. We’ll get it washed up for you.” 

They hurried back to their cabins, and Jack, who couldn’t just leave the golf cart by the field, drove slowly next to them. “Can I ride?” Ben begged.

“Nope,” Jack said. “You’re gross. I don’t want to get that all over my sick ride.”

“You’re just as muddy as we are!” Anthony protested.

“Anthony. Bro. I was talking about Ben’s cooties,”Jack teased. 

“I’ve had my cootie shot,” Romeo said cheekily. “Can I get a ride?” 

“Absolutely not!” Jack said. “I’m not worried about cooties with you. You just stink!” And for the rest of the walk/drive to the cabins, Jack kept up a steady stream of good-natured insults, which the campers and staff dished out just as much as he did. 

When they got to the bottom of Flushing Hill, Albert yelled over the boys “Hit the showers! If we’re not in our cabin, come bang on the door of Manhattan. We’ve gotta shower, too.” They all grabbed towels and clean clothes and started back down to Manhattan, where they would take turns using the two showers there. 

Race was just leaving to help Crutchie out in the art hut right when the muddy and wet counselors were about to come inside. “Nope,” he said simply. “It’s my day to clean in there and I’m not dealing with that.”

“We’re just going to shower,” Jack pointed out.

Race shook his head. “You can shower. But you can spray down with the hose out back first.” Romeo opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Race shot him a look not unlike one that he was familiar with coming from his mother, so they trudged around back to spray the majority of the mud off of each other. 

They all got cleaned up and let the boys have free time before wrapping their pajamas, sleeping bags, and camping gear to protect it from the rain and making the quick walk to the lodge, where they would be spending the night. The lodge was a huge room with a movie projector and a stage, with a kitchen attached. It was mostly used for movie nights, but every now and then, a campout got rained out and had to happen inside. 

The staff walked the boys through setting up their tents, and Albert and Elmer taught them how to make fajitas and cookies over a flame using a stack of charcoal and the large fireplace inside. Romeo whipped up a huge bowl of guacamole with Specs and David’s help, and they sat in a huge circle, eating off of their laps, like it was a real campout. They wouldn’t admit it, but at least half of the campers, as well as David, preferred it being inside. 

They cleaned up in the kitchen and were just getting settled in to watch a movie when AJ came to the counselors with a bad nosebleed. Romeo grabbed ice and paper towels to help it stop, and Teddy started to cry. Specs grabbed the radio. “Specs to Medda,” he said.

Another boy, Quez, came up and inspected AJ before telling him to tilt his head back and let the blood flow backwards. “Do  _ not _ do that,” Specs said sternly as Medda responded. “We’ve got a pretty bad nosebleed at the lodge,” he said. “It’s fine but could you come check things out?”

“I’ll be right there,” Medda replied. 

They heard her car pull up outside within about two minutes, and she sauntered in with Jack just behind her. “Alright,” Medda said. “Who’s my patient?” She went to AJ, who was still bleeding, although not as badly, and asked him a few questions. After deducing that he had had a lot of nosebleeds before, Medda sat with him until the bleeding stopped, when she handed him a small bottle of Gatorade. “Gatorade cures just about everything,” she said. The boys gathered around whined that they wanted Gatorade, too, but Medda fixed them with stern looks. “When you lose an alarming amount of blood, you can have some Gatorade, too.” That shut them up.

“How’s the camp-in?” Jack asked David.

“This is my kind of camping experience,” David admitted. “You got here fast.”

“I was hanging out with Medda,” Jack replied with a shrug. “She has every episode of Bob’s Burgers on DVD in the infirmary.” 

“Ah, of course,” David said. 

Jack nodded. “I needed to drop by anyway. I’m covering while Elmer and Specs go on their breaks.”

Once the excitement was over, they finally got the movie,  _ Lilo and Stitch _ , set up on the projector, and the boys calmed down enough to watch. They dragged sleeping bags and pillows out of their tents onto the floor, where about half of them watched while the other half quietly talked or played games. The staff hadn’t brought tents to sleep in- there were a couple of couches and reclining chairs in the back of the lodge where they would sleep. 

Romeo immediately claimed the biggest couch and stretched out onto it, watching the movie, while David took another and Albert grabbed one of the arm chairs. Jack sat down next to him, and David couldn’t help but notice that he was sitting a lot closer than was necessary on the large couch, but he wasn’t complaining. “I actually love this movie,” Jack whispered after it started.

“I’ve never seen it,” David whispered back.

Jack gasped. “Wait, how old are you?” he hissed.

“Twenty-two.”

“You can’t make it through twenty-two years of life without having seen  _ Lilo and Stitch _ ! Stop talking to me and pay attention!” As much as Jack wanted David to pay attention to the movie, though, he kept a running commentary through the opening scenes. “Listen to this song, Davey. Isn’t this a great song?” “She takes pictures of tourists.” “That’s-”

David clapped a hand over Jack’s mouth. “Do you want me to watch the movie or are you just going to talk the whole time?”

“Sorry,” Jack mumbled around David’s hand. 

They watched the movie for a few minutes in silence. “Bob’s Burgers,  _ Lilo and Stitch _ … Jack, I’m thinking you like cartoons,” David whispered.

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Don’t you? Cartoons are good.”

David shrugged. “I’ve never watched many. My family didn’t have cable, and I didn’t do the whole Disney thing growing up.”

Jack sighed. “You know, Jacobs, I thought you were cool. But this friendship is over.”

David clapped a hand to his heart. “My only friend in the world is ditching me over animation! This is tragic!”

“Shut up,” Jack said, shoving David. “Watch the movie.”

And he did. And even though David had never been into cartoons, he couldn’t help but get invested. As he watched, Jack drew in his sketchbook, copying the art from the movie for the most part, but once drawing an extremely impressive portrait of David. He silently ripped the page out of the sketchbook and passed it to David, who studied it carefully. “You’re really talented,” he whispered in awe. 

Jack shrugged. “I just copy. I never do anything original.”

“We’ve had this talk already,” David countered. “Most people can’t ‘copy’ like that. Just admit that you’ve got some skill.”

“Only if you tell me how talented I am every day,” Jack said with a smirk. 

“You’ve got a deal,” David said, extending his hand, which Jack shook. They let go just a second too late, made eye contact, and then simultaneously looked away quickly. 

As Stitch read the Ugly Duckling book, Jack alternated quickly between watching the movie and David. “What?” David hissed.

“I’m trying to tell if you’re going to cry,” Jack said.

“Well, I’m not,” David replied. Jack kept watching him, just in case. “Stop looking at me,” he said, bumping Jack’s shoulder. 

 

Specs and Elmer showed up from their breaks just as the movie ended and Medda camp back to give the boys their bedtime medications. Jack and Davey gathered the boys with meds up and took them out to Medda’s car, where the adults went up to the front of the car, where they grabbed their own medications. “Are you always that annoying during movies?” Davey teased Jack.

“You call it annoying, others call it endearing and interactive,” Jack replied.

“‘Others’?” Davey asked with finger quotes. “You mean you and your ego?”

“My ego  _ is  _ pretty awesome.” Jack looked inside the window of the lodge, where Specs was putting in another DVD. “What are you watching next?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Davey said. “Something about a bear?”

“ _ Brother Bear _ ?” Jack yelped. “Forget responsibilities, I’m staying here.” Davey shook his head, but followed Jack and the rest of the kids back to the lodge, where they took their place back on the couch, sitting closely enough that their legs were pressed together. After the movie started, Romeo and Specs disappeared to hang out on the kitchen and Albert and Elmer took the armchairs and pulled out a deck of cards. 

The boys started to drift off to sleep during the movie, some of them crawling into their tents while others just slept in the middle of the room. Davey watched the movie with rapt attention. “This is really sad,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “The first time I saw this, I cried like a baby.”

Davey fixed him with a stern expression. “Stop trying to make me cry. It’s not happening. I’ve only cried over a movie once.”

“When was that?”

Davey grinned. “You know the last Lord of the Rings movie, where Aragorn is like, ‘my friends, you bow to no one’?”

“I’ve never seen it.”

Now it was Davey’s turn to gasp. “That’s unacceptable. You stay here on weekends, right?” Jack nodded. “We’re having a marathon sometime.”

“You’ve got a deal,” Jack replied. 

They stopped talking and watched the movie. Jack was so invested that he didn’t even draw. Near the middle of the movie, the exhausting week caught up to Davey, and he started to drift off. Jack watched out of the corner of his eye as Davey’s head nodded onto his chest. After a few minutes, he was properly asleep and his head fell onto Jack’s shoulder. Jack could hardly keep from splitting his face open with a smile.

 


	11. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the weekend! Jack is sick and Race just wants to watch TV.

Thursday and Friday morning flew by for the camp and pretty soon, they were helping their campers pack up to go home. Many of the kids would be back the next week, or another time during the summer, but for a lot of them, their camp experience was over for the summer. The counselors would get Friday night, all of Saturday, and Sunday morning off, and they could either go home, stay at camp, or go somewhere else for the weekend. 

Most of the guys would be going home. Jack caught up with David at lunch, where David’s table was trying to figure out the “I like coffee but I don’t like tea” riddle. Jack still hadn’t given up, even though Race had taken pity on him and offered to tell him the trick. “I need to figure it out for myself,” Jack insisted. “Hey,” Jack said to David as he reached down and stole a fry.

David swatted his hand away. “Get your own.”

“No time for that, Davey,” Jack said. “Anyway, are you staying this weekend? I thought we could watch those Lord of the Rings movies.”

David shook his head. “I’ll be staying pretty much every weekend  _ except _ this one. My cousin’s getting married, so Sarah and I are driving up for the wedding as soon as we’re released. Besides, I don’t have the DVDs with me. I’ll pick them up while I’m home.” 

Jack made a face. “Weddings are the worst. Oh, well. Another time. Have fun being a ‘loyal cousin’ or whatever!”

“Try not to miss me too much,” David teased. 

“I like deez but I don’t like nuts,” one of the middle school boys suggested.

David rolled his eyes. “As inappropriate as that was, Eli, you’re right.” 

Jack waved and then grabbed Race, who was just wrapping a grilled cheese and some fries into a paper towel. “Making a doggy bag?” They rode up the hill in the golf cart to admin, where Race and Jack were responsible for checkout. They had to set up signout forms, organize medications so they went back with the right parents, and pull all of each camper’s paperwork. It was a long process because everything had to be alphabetized, which Jack was terrible at and Race hated. 

Just as parents were about to arrive, Pulitzer and Weisel made a rare appearance, probably to make it look like the camp was run by “real” adults, rather than Jack and Race, who were both a lot more responsible than they looked. Jack’s shorts were covered with paint stains where he tended to wipe his hands and his shirt was heavily wrinkled. Race wore a backwards snapback with the words “PRETTY FLY” emblazoned across the front, and his socks, which peeked out from the tops of his shoes, didn’t even come close to matching. 

“Weasel!” Jack greeted. “Haven’t seen much of you lately!”

“His name is Mr. Weisel,” Pulitzer corrected sharply.

“Sorry, Joe,” Jack said with a laugh. “Weasel, or Weisel, we go way back. We’re old friends.” 

Weisel grumbled. “Did everything run smoothly this week?” Pulitzer asked.

“Like a shaved pickle,” Jack replied.

“A… what?” 

“A shaved pickle,” Race repeated. “You know, because pickles are bumpy. But if you shaved a pickle, it would be smooth.”

“Race gets me,” Jack said.

 

While Jack and Race helped parents sign their kids out, the rest of the camp was aflurry with activity. Crutchie was helping out with the Harlem group, because Mush wasn’t feeling well and was trying to sleep it off. The lifeguards and Delancey brothers were doing camp maintenance- since there were no maintenance workers this year, they were in charge of mowing the grass and making basic repairs. 

David and his group were working on checkouts. Specs and Romeo had checkout down to a science. They had their kids packed and ready to go before lunch and then after lunch, had them move their luggage to the porch of Manhattan at the bottom of the hill. The boys were instructed to sweep their cabins and hose out the showers, but they weren’t legally allowed to use any cleaning products, so the counselors would have to come in with bleach later. 

As they waited for parents to arrive, David and Specs stayed with the boys, leading them through games, while Albert, Elmer, and Romeo started cleaning the cabins early. The kids trickled away one by one as parents arrived. The ones who would be returning were casual, looking forward to having internet access for a few days, but the ones who wouldn’t be back lingered, exchanging phone numbers and Snapchats with their friends.

When Teddy’s mom arrived, Teddy cried again- but this time, it was because he didn’t want to leave. He would be back for the last week that summer, which David was already sort of dreading. He was a nice kid, and he had come a long way, but that boy could  _ scream _ . 

The last kid left was Ben, who kept telling his counselors that his moms were coming, they just worked late. The radio was abuzz with counselors calling to report that their last camper was gone, meaning that Flushing was the only group with a kid left. None of the staff would be allowed to leave quite yet, though. They always had a staff meeting after kids were gone and everything was clean. From the top of the hill, David could see Spot on a riding lawnmower with large headphones covering his ears. 

Finally, Ben’s moms arrived and he left, asking them on the way down the hill if they could stop and get McDonalds on the way home. As soon as their car was out of sight, Specs was on the radio reporting that they were done and the Flushing boys half-ran down the hill to Manhattan where almost everyone was gathered. 

The lifeguards were the only ones missing, and they showed up within just a couple of minutes. Dutchy was sniffing heavily and rubbing his eyes. “I don’t care what you want me to do- put me on dish duty or something- I’m not mowing grass anymore.”

The guys teased him about being delicate for a while, until Dutchy threatened to sneeze in all of Spot’s food for the next week, when a glare from Spot shut the rest of the group up. 

Jack and Race pulled in from admin, and Jack stood at the front of the room. “Okay, guys. This week was really good. You all did really well, especially since, let’s be real, we didn’t really have a director.” A ripple of laughter traveled through the room. “But I didn’t say that, of course. Anyway, I’m gonna keep this short. You guys are welcome to stay here or leave this weekend. Make good choices and, if you’re going to go get turnt somewhere, don’t do it while wearing your camp shirts. Just make sure you’re back at admin and ready to go by 11 on Sunday morning.”

The group scattered. Some of them grouped up to go to town for dinner, another group was on the way to Walmart, and a few were just going to raid the dining hall kitchen. David met up with his sister and they took off for the wedding. 

Jack and Blink walked back to Harlem with Mush, who still wasn’t feeling well. He had picked up a stomach bug at some point and had been puking his brains out all day. Luckily, everyone in his cabin was leaving for the weekend, so he wouldn’t get any of them sick. “Can we get you something?” Blink asked. “I’m taking Jack into town for some stuff.”

“I’ll come,” Mush said weakly, but Blink made a face and shook his head.

“No offense, man, but I really don’t feel like cleaning your vom out of my car. I’m just leasing it. Gotta keep that baby  _ pristine _ .” 

“Fine,” Mush grumbled. “I don’t know. Some medicine. Gatorade. Whatever.”

“What color Gatorade?” Jack asked. 

“Red.”

 

Jack and Blink left Mush in his misery and stopped to get Blink’s car. “Hang on a minute,” Jack said. He jogged into Manhattan, where Race and Crutchie were still on the couch. “We’re going to town,” he said. “You guys coming?”

Race shook his head, but Crutchie nodded and stood up, grabbing his crutch. 

 

When they returned that night, the three of them were full of Olive Garden and carried grocery bags full of snacks for themselves and significantly less fun things for Mush. They dropped by Harlem for Mush, but he wasn’t there. Jack called for him on the radio, but most of the staff turned their radios off when there weren’t campers, so he didn’t answer.

They finally found Mush in Manhattan, lying on the couch with a bucket on the floor next to him while Race fiddled with the TV, cursing under his breath. Blink handed Mush the bag of things they had picked up for him, and Jack went to peer around the back of the TV. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“The… cable isn’t working,” Race grumbled. 

“Oh. Did you try-” 

“I’ve tried everything I know how to do,” Race snapped. “I’m not good with cables and stuff like that.”

“You know who is?” Crutchie prompted.

Race looked up in alarm. “No. Don’t call him.”

“He doesn’t need to,” Jack said. “He just got back.” From the window, Jack could see Spot’s Jeep pull into the parking lot, and he and the other guards unloaded and started toward Manhattan.

Within about thirty seconds, the lifeguards made it in. Boots went straight back to start some laundry, but the other three lingered awkwardly in the rec room. “Mush,” Jack said quietly. “Why don’t you stay in my room tonight? It’s close to the bathroom. Me and Crutchie will just stay with Race.” Mush nodded, still looking a bit green, and slowly walked back to Jack’s room. After a moment, Blink followed his best friend. 

“Race can’t get the cable to work,” Crutchie told Spot. Race shot him a murderous look, but stepped out from behind the TV. 

Spot had many jobs when he wasn’t working at camp, including doing installations part time at Best Buy (he was on the Geek Squad, although he threatened to kill anyone who said that), and without a word, he knelt behind the TV, checking the cables, while Dutchy and JoJo pulled out a new video game that they had picked out and planned on playing over the weekend. Spot fiddled with the TV for a while, messing with the settings, before finally shaking his head. “I think the cable’s just out,” he deduced. “Maybe Pulitzer didn’t pay the bill this month or something. It would be working now if it was turned on.”

“Great,” Race griped. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s fine,” Jack said placatingly. “I’ll go talk to Pulitzer tomorrow.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Race continued sarcastically. “It’s not like summers are supposed to be my breaks, and it’s not like I should be able to relax on weekends, or anything. I mean, I’m about to join a team that’s trying to get humans to  _ Mars _ , and this is the first summer that I haven’t had to do summer classes every weekend. But  _ god forbid _ I watch some trashy TV every now and then!” It looked like Race, who had been keeping up a cheery face almost all week, had finally snapped. By this point, he was pacing the floor and waving his hands wildly. Everyone in the room stared with jaws dropped. “I just wanted to watch the Kardashians for  _ an hour _ and listen to  _ their problems  _ instead of  _ mine _ ! But I guess that’s not going to happen!” Race stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. 

The silence he left behind was deafening. “This is  _ not _ about TV anymore,” Boots said awkwardly as he came out of the laundry room. Spot and Jack caught each other’s eyes then- Jack was concerned and Spot looked confused and… scared? Jack nodded once and left to go find Race, who was currently storming off in the direction of the art hut. 

 

On Saturday, Jack went to find Pulitzer. He knocked on the director’s cabin door, which was something he normally never did, not even when Drowsy was director. His talk with Race the night before hadn’t dont any good, and Race just kept insisting that he was frustrated about not being able to watch TV. Pulitzer came to the door, clearly annoyed. “It’s Saturday, Jack,” Pulitzer pointed out.

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “I know. Sorry to bug you. But the cable’s out in Manhattan, and I just wanted to see if you knew anything about that.”

“I do,” Pulitzer said with a nod. “I had it disconnected.”

“Any reason why?”

“Of course,” Pulitzer continued. “It’s a waste of money. That cable connection was fifty dollars a month that could be going toward the children. Besides, without that much television, my staff will be able to focus more on their jobs.”

Jack winced. “All due respect, Joe, but they are focused. People only watch the TV when they’re on breaks.”

“I’m not turning the cable back on,” Pulitzer said firmly, and shut the door in Jack’s face. 

 

On Sunday morning, Jack woke up sick. After running to the bathroom to throw up, he stormed weakly back into his room. “Fuck Mush,” he groaned, collapsing back into bed. He laid in bed while Race showered, just sort of generally feeling sorry for himself. 

Race came back to their room after a while as Jack was trying to put his shoes on. “Stop right there,” Race commanded. “Go back to bed. I’ll skip the supply run and run check-in.”

“No,” Jack moaned into his pillow. “You need to go on the supply run. Crutchie and Spot can do check-in. They both know what to do.” The supply run was a biweekly thing. Someone- in this case, Race- was in charge of going to town with the camp credit card and buying supplies that they would need for the programs coming up. Some supplies, including the food for the week, were ordered in bulk, but others had to be bought from Walmart, Costco, or the dollar store. 

Race called Crutchie into their room and they went over what needed to happen that day before Race and Crutchie left. They promised to send Medda down to check on Jack later. Race was going to skip the staff meeting. He took his car and dropped by admin for just long enough to get the credit card and shopping list before heading off on his own down the mountain. 

Outside, it was raining again, and the staff complained about rainy check-ins as they came back from either their cabins or homes. David got there just under the wire- he and Sarah had underestimated how bad traffic would be in the rain. He took his seat with the Flushing guys inside, where Spot and Crutchie were passing out rosters. “Where are Jack and Race?” David asked Crutchie.

“Race is on the supply run, and Jack’s got that stomach bug that Mush had,” Crutchie replied. “I’d disinfect anything he’s touched, if I were you. It looks pretty bad.”

Specs took one look at the roster in front of them and pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!” he said excitedly.

“What?” Albert asked, leaning over to look at the roster.

“We’ve got high schoolers,” Romeo explained with a grin. “They’re the best.”

Specs nodded and continued. “Yeah, they’re way easier to deal with, they don’t have to be occupied all the time, and they’re actually like… human beings?”

“As opposed to…”

“As opposed to middle school boys,” Romeo continued. “If we have any more kids like Teddy, I’ll be shocked. Besides,” he said, consulting the list. “I know all but three of these kids.”

Albert and Elmer leaned over the roster. “That’s weird,” Elmer said. “We were literally in this group last year.”

“I thought you guys were CITs,” David asked.

Albert nodded. “We were, but the CIT program is only three weeks long. The rest of the time, you go with a senior group.” Albert took a pen and put notes next to two names. “Two of these actually  _ are _ CITs- Bumlets and Itey.” 

They had a small group- only fifteen campers between the five staff, so they agreed to help Blink out some with his group. He had a particularly large group of little boys. The Flushing guys would drop in on the Woodside group to give Blink, Snoddy, Mike, and Ike a bit of rest. Blink was already rubbing his good eye tiredly in anticipation of the coming week. 

The counselors worked on scheduling, which went significantly more smoothly than the week prior. Spot wrote the weather forecast for the week up on the board so the counselors were ready with rain plans, to avoid the cabin fever problems that they had the week before.

When David approached Spot to schedule their pool times, it almost looked like Spot blushed a little. He certainly didn’t meet David’s eye, and David realized that he was probably the only one who knew about Spot. They finished scheduling, based on the information sheets that the campers filled out before arriving. In those sheets, they wrote what they wanted to do at camp, and a lot of their forms said that they wanted to hike, so there would be a hike every day. David was less than thrilled, so most of the hiking time would be either his scheduled breaks or his times to help with the little kids.

 

The rest of the staff went to lunch before kids would arrive, but Crutchie and Spot stayed behind to help Medda with intake paperwork which, yet again, Weisel had not done. Once the forms were completed, Medda went down with Crutchie to check on Jack, who was still completely miserable, while Spot went to get the pool ready for swim tests. 

 

David and the rest of the guys waited inside Manhattan’s large screened porch for their campers to arrive, to stay out of the rain. It was big enough for the entire group, and campers were allowed on the porch, as long as they didn’t go inside the actual cabin. 

The campers began to arrive, one or two at a time. The high schoolers were way more casual than the middle school boys had been. Most of their parents dropped them off at the bottom of the hill and, after Specs yelled from the safety of the porch which cabin they were assigned to, dropped their own stuff off before coming back down to the porch. David felt basically invisible as these new boys turned up. Most of them had been coming to the camp for nearly a decade, and knew the other counselors like old friends- Albert and Elmer especially. One of the ones that David remembered was also going to be a CIT later that summer, Bumlets, pulled a game out of his backpack, which the boys joined in on immediately. 

Specs and Romeo had been right. They were really just there to supervise and make sure no one got killed. The high school students were way more self-sufficient, and even the three new boys fit in easily. Apparently, though they were new, they weren’t really strangers at all. The new boys, as well as two others, Mark and Tyler, all went to the same high school. 

Once they had all of their boys, Romeo sent them up to change for swim tests and told them to meet them outside of the Flushing cabin in half an hour. Once they were alone, Specs turned to Albert and Elmer. “You guys are going to hate me,” he said regretfully.

“Why?” Elmer asked suspiciously.

“Because you two are going to have to deal with the first few discipline problems.”

“Again,” Elmer said. “Why?”

Romeo nodded along with what Specs was saying. “It’s because they obviously still think of you two as CITs, but you need to show them that you’re counselors.”

“Show them who’s boss, you know?” Specs added.

Albert and Elmer both looked uncertain about this situation. “I don’t know…” Albert started, but Romeo shook his head.

“It’s nothing personal,” he said. “But they’ve got to respect you as adults now, you know? I’m not saying to be mean to them. But you’re not in the same groups anymore, you know? You should be friendly, but you’ve got to remember that as long as you’re their counselors and they’re campers, you aren’t friends. I had to go through the same thing when I moved up.” He nodded at Specs. “Specs has always been old, though.”

Specs nodded, eyes wide behind his thick glasses. “It’s true. I was twenty-four when I was born.”

 

Up at the pool, Spot had just finished swim testing the middle school boys. It was an especially bad group of swimmers, and they had to fail way more than usual for that age group. They had about half an hour before the high school boys would show up, so the guards all decided to have a quick swim. This was something they did all the time, although they swore up and down that someone was lifeguarding the whole time, if anyone asked. They had a couple of races, one of which was won by JoJo and the other by Spot, and then just floated lazily through the water. It was still raining, but there was no thunder, so swim tests would continue. 

“Are you ever going to tell us why you and Race are fighting?” Dutchy asked. 

“We’re not fighting,” Spot replied shortly. “We’re just not talking.”

“Okay,” Dutchy continued. “Great. Are you ever going to tell us why you and Race aren’t talking? I mean, we all saw him wig out in Manhattan the other day.”

“That had nothing to do with us,” Spot lied. Race obviously hadn’t said so, but he could tell that Race’s outburst hadn’t been about TV or the pressures of school. “I might tell you, someday. But not now.”

“Why?” JoJo asked. Of the lifeguards, JoJo was easily the nicest, and the easiest to get along with. It was why he had such a good relationship with a lot of the other counselors. For the most part, the Brooklyn guards rarely associated with other staff, especially now that Race and Spot weren’t hanging out. Dutchy was kind of intense and sarcastic, and Boots was really quiet. 

Spot dipped his head back in the water, wetting his hair. “I don’t even fully know what’s going on,” he said reluctantly. 

They heard voices coming up the trail from Flushing Hill, quickly pulled themselves out of the pool, and got ready for the high school swim tests, which were always the easiest. “Come on in,” JoJo called to the group, and David led them into the pool area, where the high school boys took a seat at the benches.

Spot went over pool rules quickly, since he knew most of these boys were already perfectly familiar with the rules. He had been some of these kids’ counselor, back before he got moved to the lifeguarding side of camp. To be a counselor, you had to be a whole lot more compassionate and patient than Spot was. He and the other lifeguards got the fifteen teenagers through their tests quickly, and all of them passed. 

As the Flushing guys got ready to leave, Spot grabbed David’s arm and dragged him off to the side. “You haven’t told anyone, right?” he asked urgently. “About what I said?”

David shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Not even Jack?” Spot prompted.

“No. I’m not going to tell anyone. I promise.” Spot nodded and let go of David’s arm. 

They had a while until the little boys would have their swim tests, and the other guards jumped back into the pool for another swim once the Flushing boys were out of sight. Spot hung back, and took a seat at the picnic table by his backpack. 

He had been doing a lot of thinking, and had been working on accepting that yeah, he was gay. And that explained why he never really liked the girls in school, and why he just couldn’t make himself like his girlfriend as any more than a friend, and why he had always been pretty jealous of JoJo’s  _ incredibly impressive _ abs, and most of all, why he couldn’t get Race out of his head.

Spot reached into his backpack for his phone, which was vibrating with a phone call. There was no name on the screen, just four emojis: a heart, a club, a diamond, and a spade. Spot almost dropped the phone in alarm. He watched as the call went to voicemail, at which time he saw that there were four missed calls from that number. The person called again, which, again, Spot ignored. The phone stopped ringing, finally, and Spot sighed. His heart felt like his heart was somewhere in his throat. 

His phone vibrated again, this time with a text. Spot had just enough time to read it before the number started calling for a sixth time. “Please pick up,” the text said. “I need help.”

In a flash, Spot had his phone at his ear. “Race,” he said by way of a greeting. “What’s wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Race sounded exhausted. “Thank god. You’re the only person I knew who has service. I got in a wreck on the way down the mountain. I’m in the hospital. Can you please come?”

“Of course.”


	12. Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot rushes to the hospital.

Spot got the address and room number from Race before hanging up. He yelled to the guys in the pool. “Race got in a wreck and he’s in the hospital. Can you guys handle swim tests?” The other guards froze immediately and started getting out of the water.

“Of course,” Boots assured Spot. “We’ll tell Jack where you went.”

“Don’t bother Jack right now, he’s sick,” Spot instructed them as he dug through his bag, hands shaking, for his car keys. “Tell Crutchie. He’ll handle things. I’ll be back later.” Spot finally found his keys, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and ran out into the rain, down the hill, and onto the camp road toward his car. 

Crutchie just happened to be driving by in Jack’s golf cart. “What’s going on?” he asked, slamming on the brakes. 

“Ask the guards,” Spot yelled as he passed by. “I’ve got to go.” Crutchie kept driving down the road but, instead of going to check on the guys in the dining hall like he had originally planned, made the hairpin turn onto the pool hill to check with the lifeguards. 

Spot made it to his Jeep and punched the address of the hospital into his phone while simultaneously cranking the car to life. He whipped out of the parking lot in reverse and peeled out of camp. Although he was speeding, the drive felt like he was going about twenty-five miles per hour. “He’s okay enough to call,” Spot kept saying to himself. “He’s okay enough to text. He’s okay enough to call, and he’s okay enough to text.” That was the only thing that kept him from barreling down the mountain at ninety miles per hour. 

Race’s text kept flashing across his mind. “I need help. Please pick up, I need help.” Race never asked for help. It was actually kind of annoying. Even if he obviously couldn’t do something, he wouldn’t ask. 

After what felt like two or three hours, although it was probably only about thirty minutes, Spot pulled into the ER parking lot. He was stopped at the door by a guard, who beckoned for his backpack, which Spot gave up to be searched. It was taking way too long and Spot bounced on the balls of his feet before, finally, the guard handed it back to him. He shouldered it and took off.

Race was in room 395, according to his texts. Spot took the stairs two at a time and cut past nurses and old people on the way to the room. 389… 391… 393… 

Finally, he arrived at room 395, which had four beds in it. The first bed was empty. The second had a girl with her arm in a cast. The third had the curtains closed. And in the fourth, by the window, was Race, who was sitting up, texting someone. He looked up right as Spot came into view. “You look awful. Did you run here?”

“Basically,” Spot said, catching his breath, and then allowed himself to really look at Race.

It wasn’t pretty. His face was darkly bruised more places than not, his lip had been busted, his nose was red like it had recently been bleeding, and there was a huge gash stretching diagonally across his right eyebrow, which had clearly been stitched up. Spot bit his lip. “If I look awful, I don’t even want to say what you look like,” he said.

“Come on,” Race said. “I could use a laugh.”

Spot thought for a second, taking a seat in the chair by Race’s bed as he did. “You look like a monster, which mutated with an eggplant, which then got hit by a semi truck.” Race laughed, but it was cut short by a pain in his lip. “What happened?” Spot asked. 

“I was going down the mountain to do the supply run- which still hasn’t been done, by the way- and I hit a puddle and hydroplaned right into a tree. I wasn’t even speeding- it just sort of happened. And I hit my head on the steering wheel, which is why I’m an eggplant monster right now.”

Spot looked horrified. “Did your airbags not go off?” he asked.

Race laughed humorlessly. “Spot. My car- may she rest in peace, by the way- hardly even ran. She definitely didn’t have working airbags.”

“ _ Race _ ,” Spot groaned. “For a technically smart person, you’re a dumbass, you know that?”

Race shrugged. “So I’ve been told, by  _ multiple _ EMTs. Anyway, I’m getting discharged soon. Can you drive me back to camp?” Spot nodded. Race was quiet for a minute, before taking on a serious expression. “Really, though. Thanks for coming. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Spot replied urgently. “Look- Race- I’m sorry. I actually got something to show you how sorry I am!” He reached into his backpack and pulled out an Amazon box, which he handed to Race.

“You didn’t wrap it,” Race said accusingly.

Spot shrugged. “Amazon wrapped it.”

Race opened the box, peered inside, and laughed. “You got me the Kardashians on DVD?” he asked incredulously.

“Three seasons,” Spot confirmed. “I ordered them after, you know, the thing with the cable the other night. Ya boy is a Prime customer.”

“That wasn’t one of my better moments. I can’t believe you bought me three seasons of  _ Keeping Up With the Kardashians _ on DVD,” Race teased.

“Honestly,” Spot said, “neither can I. They’re ridiculous.”

“Hey! They’re savvy businesswomen.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

Race shook his head, bemused. “Thanks.”

The doctor came in then and did a few last minute tests, including checking his response times. Race hadn’t mentioned it, but he also had a concussion. After handing Race a bag of pills and a thick stack of paper about caring for his various injuries, Race was released. He and Spot walked together out of the hospital and found that it had stopped raining and the sun was shining brightly in the way that it only does after a big rain. Race winced at the bright light and as soon as they made it to the Jeep, Spot wordlessly handed Race his sunglasses.

They got into the Jeep and buckled up, but Spot didn’t start the engine. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. 

“You already said that,” Race pointed out. “And then you gave me the beautiful Khloe Kardashian on DVD.”

Spot shook his head. “Nah, that wasn’t enough of a sorry. I’m  _ really _ sorry. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just freaked out. I definitely don’t want to stop being your friend. You’re like, the best friend I’ve got.”

Race smiled as much as he could without splitting his lip back open. “Good. It’s been a really shitty week and I’m tired of talking to Jack all the time.”

“I don’t want to stop messing around either, though,” Spot continued seriously. “I just freaked out because you make me think about stuff, and… I don’t know. I didn’t want to think about that stuff.”

“What stuff?” Race asked softly.

Spot was quiet for a long time. He stared straight ahead at the other cars in the parking lot and tapped his fingers nervously against the steering wheel. “I’m gay,” Spot finally said. It was the first time that he had said the words aloud, in such uncertain terms. “I didn’t realize it- somehow I didn’t really think that making out with a guy in the woods was a gay thing to do- but I am. Kind of one of those situations where you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

There was a long silence before Race finally spoke. “Can you stop staring at that truck? I think you’re going to burn a hole in the tailgate.” Spot finally turned to him and Race was struck by how young he looked. “How am I going to make no homo jokes with you now? I can’t no homo the guy I like if he’s gay.” 

Spot scowled, then actually heard what Race said. “You like me?” he asked.

Race looked at Spot like he had the IQ of a turnip. “We’ve been regularly making out for several summers now, I practically begged you to take me back when we got caught, and without you to talk to, I’ve had the worst week I can remember in a long time. I don’t exactly think you’re gross.”

Spot bit his lip, and Race could tell that he was trying to hide a huge, goofy grin. “I like you, Higgins,” he finally said. “No homo, though.”

Race laughed. “Can we get food on the way back to camp?”

“Taco Bell?”

“Yes, please.”

And as they drove back to the camp, they ate too many tacos, caught up on what they had each been doing during their week apart, and just generally enjoyed each other’s company.

 

As they pulled onto the road that led to camp, Race looked sharply to Spot. “What are we telling people? Are we telling people anything?”

Spot shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t even care. Maybe, if it’s cool with you, we could just like… not announce anything to the whole camp but also not deny anything or sneak around a whole lot.”

“Okay,” Race replied. “So everyone oughta know by tomorrow morning.” 

“Basically.”

Jack was feeling, for the most part, human again when he head Spot’s Jeep roar into the parking lot. Dinner and the opening campfire were done for the night, so the counselors were getting their campers ready for showers, free time, and bedtime. Jack waited on the porch for Race, and was pleasantly surprised to see his friend and Spot talking like best friends again. He was not so happy to see Race’s face.

“What  _ happened _ ?” Jack asked in shock. Race explained the run-in with the tree. “You look awful.” 

“So I hear,” Race said. “By the way, I didn’t do the supply run. Sorry.”

Jack waved him off. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll guilt Weisel into doing it tomorrow.”

“How are you feeling?” Race asked.

Jack shrugged. “I’m on a lot of meds right now, so I can’t really tell. I just needed to get out of that cabin.”

“Alright, well, Spot got me an ‘I’m sorry for being an overreacting dicknozzle’ gift, so we’re going to go watch that,” Race said.

“I don’t really want-” Spot started, but Race cut him off.

“Overreacting dicknozzle. Come on.” They headed into Race’s room, where Race set up his laptop and put a Kardashian DVD in. Spot rolled his eyes, but settled back in to watch. 

They had only gotten a few minutes in before Spot was distracted. He had Race’s Rubik’s Cube and was trying, with absolutely no success, to solve it. Race took it and solved it in under a minute. “Showoff,” Spot grumbled. Race laughed, but his laugh was cut off when Spot leaned closer and gently put a hand at the back of Race’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

They closed their eyes and deepened the kiss for just a moment, before Race winced and pulled away. “Shit,” Spot cursed. “Sorry.”

Race shook his head. “Don’t be. But maybe wait a little bit. I’m on a  _ lot _ of drugs and this still hurts like crazy.”

 

Jack was outside in his hammock at the bottom of Flushing Hill when Medda came around with bedtime medicine, and David came down the hill with a couple of his high school campers. “How are you feeling?” David asked Jack as Jack downed his usual medicine, as well as a generous dose of Pepto Bismol.

“Well, this morning, I wanted to die, and now I actually feel dead,” Jack replied. “Believe it or not, it’s actually an improvement.” David laughed. “How’s your group?”

“Really good, actually,” David said. “Honestly, thanks for giving me the teen group this week.”

“Anytime,” Jack laughed. He looked over to the campers to make sure they weren’t listening, but they were all cutting up with Medda. “Spot and Race are friends again.”

“How is Race?” David asked eagerly. “I heard he was in the hospital.”

“He looks like he went through a trash compactor,” Jack admitted. “But he’s in a really good mood. Like, a  _ really  _ good mood.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . You think they’re-”

“Maybe,” Jack said. 

David nodded. “I hope it works out for them, somehow,” he said. “I’ve got to do bedtimes again tonight, if you want to come hang out.”

Jack grimaced. “I would, but I don’t want to get you sick. And also because I kind of feel like I’m going to fall asleep at any moment. But you’ll be good. They won’t want to go to sleep, but they’re high school students. You can kind of let them do whatever as long as they don’t get too crazy.”

“I know,” David said with a smirk. “I handled middle schoolers just fine, didn’t I? I was just trying to see if you wanted to hang out. Go to bed. We can handle the camp without you for one day.”

“Good night, Davey.”

“Good night, Jack.”

 

Jack wandered back into the cabin just as Spot was leaving. Crutchie- bless him- was still doing Jack’s rounds in the golf cart. Jack had heard rumor of a large scale tantrum in Blink’s group. He wandered into Race’s room, where Race was just putting his laptop away. “Davey asked me to hang out tonight,” Jack sighed as he flopped onto the extra bed.

“Spot  _ likes _ me,” Race blurted out. 

Jack shot up sharply, which made him feel a little bit nauseous and dizzy. “You first.”

And so, Race explained everything to Jack, how he called Spot, how Spot gave him the DVDs, how they admitted that they liked each other- homo included. “And then we went to Taco Bell, and I bought his tacos, and…” Race blathered on and on until his busted mouth started to hurt.

Jack grinned. “Congratulations, man,” he said genuinely. “You deserve it.”


	13. Rounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey helps Jack with his rounds. Spot and Race make a bet.

When Jack woke up the next morning, he felt good as new. It had apparently only been a one day bug, which just happened to fall on one of the least convenient days possible. He came back into his and Crutchie’s room after showering and hugged Crutchie. “You are the best. You’re a hero and a champion, a gentleman and a scholar. I will owe you until I’m at least fifty-three years old.”

“It was no big deal,” Crutchie said. “You only have to owe me until you’re forty-seven.”

“What happened in Blink’s group last night?” 

Crutchie groaned. “He’s got a  _ major _ bed-wetter. I had to bring this kid  _ two _ backup sleeping bags. We’ve got a lot of laundry to do today. But the other kids found out and started teasing the kid, and it just about turned into a tiny fist fight.”

“Yikes,” Jack said. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with that. Assigning Blink to the little kids was always kind of risky- he had a very dark, sarcastic sense of humor. The older boys loved it but the little kids didn’t get it, so Blink tended to be pretty unpopular with the young kids. 

The Manhattan boys gathered themselves and Jack drove them in the golf cart to breakfast. Race had been instructed to take it easy because of his concussion, and Crutchie’s leg was flaring up after the flurry of activity the day before. Altogether, their little group was a little bit worse for wear. Race still wore Spot’s dark sunglasses to protect his currently sensitive eyes, and also to cover some of his injuries. It didn’t do much good.

 

Race took his seat at a table full of little kids, who stared at him in horror, although Race didn’t notice that. Spot took the other counselor seat across the table, finally breaking up the lifeguard cluster that had been sitting together at meals ever since they started fighting.

“Why are you wearing sunglasses?” a little boy asked Race.

“They’re really cool sunglasses,” he replied in between bites of eggs.

“What happened to your face?” another boy asked.

Race swallowed a huge bite. “I got in a fight with a bear.” Spot smirked.

“The same one that took Blink’s eye?” asked a boy in shock.

Race stumbled on that for a moment before nodding. “Same one. That bear’s got an attitude. But I still have both of my eyes.” He briefly lifted the sunglasses to prove it, and everyone at the table instantly wished he hadn’t. Race’s right eye, right under the stitched up cut, had almost swollen shut. His bruises had darkened overnight, and he looked even worse than the day before. 

When Medda called for people with breakfast medications, she motioned for Race to come up, too. Medda had Race explain his injuries and the treatment plan that he had been given by the doctor. “Sunglasses off,” she said. “I need to check your reaction times.” She took a small flashlight out of the pocket of her scrubs and performed a few basic checks on Race before announcing that his brain didn’t  _ seem _ to be permanently damaged. “You sure are lucky, though, Racetrack. Stick with Jack today on the golf cart. You don’t need to be running around right now.”

 

David, Albert, and Elmer gathered their group after breakfast to take them to the pool. Romeo and Specs had gone with Blink’s group to horseback riding, which was sure to be a disaster. Even with six counselors  _ and  _ the barn staff, there probably still wouldn’t be enough hands. The high school boys, on the other hand, were easy. They already had their swim stuff ready in backpacks and didn’t complain about needing to pee a fifth time even  _ once _ . 

They got to the pool, where Spot was the only one lifeguarding. Dutchy was on break and JoJo and Boots were down at the lake, supervising canoeing. After he got back from hanging out with Race the night before, Spot went back to the Brooklyn cabin and explained everything to his boys. They were way cooler and supportive of his coming out than Spot had ever expected. 

Spot climbed the ladder to the guard chair, where he sat with his guard tube and water bottle, squinting from the sun reflecting off of the pool’s water. He was just about to call for one of the counselors to grab his sunglasses out of his backpack before remembering that Race still had them. 

The high school campers jumped into the pool on Spot’s whistle, and he distracted himself by counting them over and over. He would scan the pool, counting fifteen heads, before immediately starting over at once. The scanning took most of his concentration, although it left his mind a little bit of room to wander. 

 

Spot didn’t realize it, but he was grinning as he squinted toward the pool. David caught it, and smiled inwardly. Although they hadn’t known each other for very long, he had never seen Spot look so happy. Albert and Elmer noticed, too. “What are you so happy about?” Elmer called up to Spot on his chair.

“Don’t distract the lifeguard,” Spot said without taking his eyes off the pool.

One of the boys, Charlie, treaded water in the deep end, near where Albert and Elmer were sitting in folding chairs. “Jump in!” Charlie yelled to the counselors. 

“We’re working,” Albert said. 

“Work from the pool!” another boy, Greg said, joining Charlie. 

Elmer shook his head. “Nope. We’re the adults here.”

“Fine,” Greg said. “How about Davey?” Jack’s nickname for David had stuck by this point, and almost everyone at camp called him Davey. 

David looked up from the book he was reading in the shade of an umbrella. “Not happening,” he said simply. 

But all of the campers seemed to love the idea of David in the pool, so they all started chanting his name. “Davey! Davey! Davey! Davey!”

“I’m not even dressed for swimming.”

Albert and Elmer joined in. “Davey! Davey! Davey! Davey! Davey!”

“I don’t know how to swim,” Davey lied.

Spot joined in then. “You passed your swim test with flying colors,” he yelled.

“ _ Davey! Davey! Davey! Davey! _ ”

 

David bookmarked his book and carefully set it on the chair before striding purposefully toward the pool house to escape the chanting, which only got louder. Just as he was about to open the pool gate, David spun on his heel and ran, doing a cannonball into the pool. The campers all cheered. When David swam back up to the surface, Spot blew his whistle sharply. “No running,” he said simply.

David hadn’t noticed, but the golf cart pulled up just as he ran into the pool and Jack and Race watched in amusement. They got out and strolled over to the pool deck, near where David, still fully clothed, bobbed around in the pool. “You’re overdressed,” Jack called. 

David nodded solemnly while treading water. “You’re right,” he said, and then quickly sank into the water for a few minutes. He came back up holding his soaking wet shoes, which he tossed to Jack. “I’m going to need you to do some laundry for me.”

 

Race stood next to the lifeguard stand, where he handed Spot his sunglasses. “I forgot these were your’s,” he admitted. 

Spot shook his head. “Keep them,” he said, still squinting at the pool. “You need them right now.”

“I found my own,” Race insisted.

“Then give me your’s.” Race grinned and took off his own sunglasses, which he handed up to Spot. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem,  _ brah _ ,” Race teased.

 

“Next time you jump in the pool fully clothed, do it right,” Jack said seriously. 

“How do you jump in  _ right _ ?” David asked.

Jack reached into his pockets and handed his phone and radio to Race before kicking off his shoes. “You plan ahead!” he yelled before jumping in, as well. 

Pretty soon, Albert and Elmer were in the pool, and Race was emptying his pockets onto the lifeguard stand and stepping out of his shoes. “Stop right there,” Spot demanded.

“Why?” Race snapped.

Spot counted on his fingers. “Concussion? Busted up face? Stitches? Now stay out of the pool and stop distracting the lifeguard.” 

“I’m distracting?” Race prodded. Spot didn’t respond- he just smirked in the direction of the pool, where he busied himself with scanning, now counting the nineteen bodies in the pool. 

 

The counselors swam with their campers for a while longer before Spot called for them to get out. They would have to go back to the cabins and change before the scheduled hike, during which David would be taking his break. The group walked back, waddling a little because of their wet clothes, to the cabins, where the boys all went to change. Race wouldn’t let the soaking wet Jack ride in the golf cart, so he walked with them, as well. 

Jack went down to Manhattan while David, Albert, and Elmer changed in the cabin. Romeo and Specs showed up soon thereafter, ready for the hike, while David gathered up their wet clothes to take down the hill to the dryer. The campers were already hanging wet towels and swim trunks out on a clothesline that Specs had rigged up the week before. 

David made the short walk down to Manhattan and tossed his and the other counselors’ wet clothes in the dryer. He went and knocked on Jack and Crutchie’s door. “I’m about to start the dryer,” he said. “Want me to throw your clothes in?”

“Yeah, just a second!” Jack yelled, before opening his door about a minute later. He was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, with no shirt. David’s eyes quickly flicked down to Jack’s chest before coming up to his face. “I’m just getting-  _ did you just check me out _ ?” Jack asked with a laugh.

“Please,” David scoffed, although he could feel his face getting hot. “You wish.” 

Jack cackled, then banged on Race’s door. “Race! Davey just checked me out!”

“Great!” Race yelled from inside his room. “Shut up, I’m trying to take a nap!”

Jack gathered up his pile of wet clothes from the floor before dumping them in the dryer with the rest and turning it on. He came back to where David was still waiting out in the hallway, before motioning for him to come in. “You don’t just have to hover there,” he said.

“You told me the bedrooms were off limits on the first day,” David pointed out.

“We weren’t friends the first day. What are you, a vampire? Come in.” David followed him into the room, where Jack rifled through a dresser for a shirt before finally choosing a blue tank top. “You’re on break till lunch, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“It’s not going to hurt my feelings if you say no, or anything, but do you want to ride around with me for a while while I do some rounds? Race’s head’s hurting so he’s going to sleep it off and I could always use the company.”

“I was going to read,” David said. “But I  _ guess  _ I could come. Only to save your feelings.” Jack shoved David good naturedly. “By the way,” David continued. “Did I just see a tattoo?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack said wait a grin. He reached back and pulled his shirt back up so David could see the tattoo on his right shoulder blade. It was brightly colored in reds and oranges, and sort of cubist in nature.

“What is it?” David asked. 

“It’s kind of abstract,” Jack admitted as he let his shirt slide back down. “It’s supposed to be like the red rock formations out west, though.”

“Did you design it?” 

Jack nodded. “Yeah.” He put a hand on David’s shoulder and guided him out of the room to the golf cart. 

“So you  _ don’t  _ just copy!” David said.

“What?”

“You said you just copy what you see when you draw, but clearly, that’s not true,” David explained as Jack backed the golf cart out of its parking spot. 

Jack shrugged but changed the subject. “What do you do when you’re not reading or asking annoying riddles? I like sugar but I don’t like syrup, by the way.”

“No,” David answered. “But I don’t know. I’m pretty boring. I go to school. I watch Netflix. I play piano, so that’s something, I guess.”

“You’re not boring,” Jack said fervently as they drove along the camp road on the way to the barn. “I want to hear you play piano.”

David nodded slowly. “Too bad there isn’t one here.”

“There is, actually,” Jack said. “It’s really old and I don’t know how well it plays, but there’s one in the handyman building.”

“We have a handyman building?”

Jack smirked. “Yeah. Have Specs or Romeo tell you about it sometime. Trust me.” He changed the subject again just as David was about to press him for more information. “Do you have any pets?”

“No. I really want a cat, but my ex was allergic, so we couldn’t get one.”

“You should have dumped him the minute he said that!” Jack said in mock horror. 

David nodded. “You’re absolutely right, but then I would have had to pay the rent all by myself. It’s all about strategy, Jacky-boy.” He looked around then, aware for the first time of their surroundings. “Where are we going?”

“Waterfall,” Jack said. “It’s part of mine and Race’s rounds. Locals sometimes sneak out here to hang out and drink by the waterfall and I have to either chase them away or clean up the beer cans every few days.” 

“I thought the waterfall entrance was down by Harlem.”

“It is,” Jack replied. “But the locals don’t go to the bottom of the waterfall, like we do. They walk down the river and go to the top.” Jack pulled up to a dirt path leading into the woods just past the barn on the way to admin, which David had never noticed before. “The cart can’t make it, but don’t worry. It’s not a long walk.” 

They left the cart at the head of the path and started into the woods. It wasn’t long before David could hear the rush of the waterfall somewhere ahead, and the noise grew louder with every step they took. 

Soon, they arrived at the edge of the water, about thirty feet upstream from where the waterfall dropped off. It was about twenty feet high, but seemed a lot taller from the top. Jack took one look, then rolled his eyes. “Yep, they’ve been here.” All around them, no trespassing signs were nailed to the trees, but those apparently didn’t deter the locals. Jack loudly opened the trash bag that he had brought with him and stepped forward, quickly picking up the trash that littered the ground. “The maintenance guys used to do this,” he said as he cleaned. “But since we don’t have any of them anymore, me and Race do it.”

Jack hopped across a couple of rocks jutting out of the water to stand on the very edge of the waterfall. “Hey, Davey, come check this out.”

“No thanks,” David replied quickly from the bank.

“Come on, I’m not going let you fall. This is really cool.”

Reluctantly, David stepped onto one rock, followed by another, testing every step before he committed. With every inch that he got closer to the edge, his anxiety spiked. “Yep,” he finally said from six feet behind Jack, without looking at anything other than his feet. 

“Davey, you can’t see properly from-” Jack turned to look at David and was shocked to see that he was as white as a sheet. “Shit. You’re afraid of heights. I knew that. I forgot. I’m sorry. Let’s go back.” 

“I want to get closer,” David said, steeling himself with a few deep breaths. 

Jack shook his head. “You don’t need to do that,” he said. “Seriously, it’s impressive that you’ve gotten this far.”

“Jack,” David snapped. “I didn’t follow you out here because you told me to. Just like… help me, okay?”

Jack carefully crossed the rocks back to David. “Hold my hand,” he said, holding his own out. David took it. “I know the best path. I promise, I won’t let you fall.”

David clung to Jack’s hand as Jack navigated them across the rocks. They went slowly, with Jack pointing out exactly where to put his foot on each rock, until finally, David stopped, about a foot and a half from the edge. His heart was about to pound through his tshirt, and he was probably cutting off the circulation in Jack’s hand. “I’ve got you, if you want to look,” Jack said gently. 

David slowly looked up from where he was concentrating very hard on his shoes, until first the drop-off, and then the view, came into his line of sight. His vision spun and his knees shook for a moment and he focused on his own hand in Jack’s before it finally came into focus and David could really appreciate what was ahead of him. From here, he could see the whole river, the trees, the beaver dam, the stairs up toward Harlem,  _ everything _ . In reality, it wasn’t that high. They could realistically jump and be perfectly fine. But to David, it seemed like about a hundred feet. 

He stood, frozen, for about a minute, before nodding. “Well, that’s enough of that. Let’s go.” Jack grinned and they carefully climbed back to the bank, where David finally felt ready to let go of Jack’s hand. “Thanks,” he said gratefully. “I get kind of crazy with heights. Sorry about that.” It was actually pretty embarrassing.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jack said, shaking his head. “We all have our things.”

“Well, what are you scared of?” David asked.

“Snakes, for one thing,” Jack replied simply.

David arched an eyebrow. “You told me you weren’t afraid of snakes.  _ You _ said you just didn’t want to get bitten.” 

“Of course I’m afraid of snakes! Everyone in their right mind is afraid of snakes! I was just trying to seem tough because you were cute!” Jack and David both laughed, but they both kind of froze up internally.  _ Because you were cute _ . 

“You think I’m cute,” David teased.

“Of course I do,” Jack snapped. “You are and you know it. But you also checked  _ me _ out earlier, so  _ ha _ .” 

“I did not,” David protested.

“You did.” 

“Call it even.”

Jack gathered up the now filled trash bag and they started back up the slight hill to the golf cart. “What’s next on the rounds?” David asked.

“Barn,” Jack replied. “I usually just start at the top and work my way down through the camp.”

They pulled into the barn area, parking just outside. Skittery was outside filling water buckets while Finch and Tumbler were brushing the eight horses inside. “Hey, guys,” Jack called out as he and David came inside. “Everything good here?”

“Doing great,” Finch replied, stroking the mane of the horse in front of him. 

“How’s the new latch on the gate working out?”

“Brick tried to get out this morning, but he couldn’t figure it out, so looks good.” Finch gave the horse, Brick, a few pats on the back. He and Jack talked for a few minutes about an upcoming visit from the vet before Finch looked to David. “Do you ride, Davey?”

David shook his head. “Horses are okay, but I prefer to watch from afar.”

“Suit yourself,” Finch replied. “But if you ever want to try, let me know. I teach lessons back home.”

“Where’s Morris?” Jack asked. 

“Who knows?” Tumbler grumbled. “He took off after we finished with Blink’s group.”

Jack ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. “Okay, I’ll deal with that later. Do you guys need any help?” 

Skittery came in with the last of the water buckets and Finch shook his head. “We’ve just got to finish brushing Brick, Peggy, and Nike, and then we’ll be done. We’re good here.”

“Alright,” Jack said. “Call if you need anything and I’ll try to track Morris down.” He and David went back to the golf cart where Jack shook his head. “Delanceys,” he grumbled, throwing the golf cart into drive and whipping away from the barn. “They’re both useless. Finch should really be the one in charge of the equestrian program. He’s the most responsible and he has the most experience.”

 

David tagged along on Jack’s rounds until lunch. They stopped by the art hut, where Crutchie was teaching the little kids to make origami, by the big field, where half of the middle school boys were playing kickball, and by canoeing, where the other middle school boys were racing each other across the Mountain Ridge section of the lake. Across the water, David almost thought he could see Sarah standing on the end of the girls’ dock, supervising her own campers. 

Finally, they ended up back at the dining hall, where the kids were lining up to go get lunch. “Is that all you’ve got to do on rounds?” David asked. 

Jack shook his head. “No. I’m doing double duty today because Race is down. Normally he checks on program areas, like the art hut, canoeing, all that, and I just focus on counselors and camper groups. Except that I always do the barn. Race is weirdly scared of horses.”

“That’s a lie,” Race said, strolling up behind the two of them. He and Jack argued for a while about the validity of a fear of horses before Race spotted Spot across the dining hall at the coffee station. “Excuse me, boys. I need to see a man about a bet.”

 

Race sauntered over to Spot, who was surreptitiously pouring a vanilla Coke into a coffee mug. If had been a rule of Drowsy’s- drink water like the kids, or drink coffee, but they weren’t supposed to have “fun drinks” in front of the kids. So they pretended that it was coffee. “I bet you won’t pour salt in that,” Race said.

“How much are you betting?” Spot asking instantly.

“Three bucks.”

Spot studied the vanilla Coke, which was fizzing slightly. “How much salt?” 

“Two spoonfuls.”

“No way,” Spot said, shaking his head. “That’s worth way more than three bucks. Either up the price or lower the salt.”

“Ten bucks.”

Spot considered the offer, and then nodded. “Deal.” They shook on it, and Race carefully poured two spoonfuls of salt into the mug, which Spot stirred, making a face. 

“You’ve got to drink the whole thing,” Race clarified. 

“Obviously.”

Race and Spot took their seats at the same table again as the meal started, and Race watched as Spot slowly raised the mug to his lips. He and Race made eye contact and Spot made a show of taking a huge drink from the soda. The moment seemed to stretch on and on, until Spot spit the drink out, coughing, all over his plate. The boys at the table almost wet themselves laughing, Race included.

Spot stood to go get a new plate of food, and Race held his hand out. “After lunch,” Spot said. 

Race shook his head. “Nah, bro. Pay up.” Spot went back to his backpack, where he dug out his wallet and withdrew a crumpled ten dollar bill, which Race took smugly. 

“I’ll win that back later,” Spot promised. 

“Why do you always have cash?” David asked as he walked past them with a tray of food. “No one carries cash anymore.”

“When you’re friends with Race, you carry cash,” Spot said, and Race nodded fervently. 

 

David took his tray and say down at a table with Specs, Romeo, and a few of their campers. “Jack said something earlier today about a handyman building,” David said to the other counselors. “He said I should ask you guys about it.”

Specs and Romeo exchanged a significant look between the two of them. “The handyman cabin is haunted,” Romeo said simply, and Specs nodded in agreement.

“Oh, okay,” David said as he twirled some spaghetti onto his fork. “So it wasn’t anything real.”

“It’s real,” Specs said confidently. 

“We can show him tonight!” Romeo added. He jumped up from the table and half-ran to where Albert and Elmer were sitting together. He said something to the two of them, who both nodded, and Romeo came back to our table. “Albert and Elmer will watch the kids.”

“Hey!” one of the high school boys interjected, but Romeo ignored him.

“We’ll show you tonight.”


	14. Handyman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Specs and Romeo tell David a scary story, and Jack has a visitor.

That night, after the campers were all away in their cabins, Romeo, Specs, and David got ready to go check out the handyman building. “Should we stop by Manhattan and see if any of them want to come?” David asked.

“You mean, you want to see if  _ Jack _ will come,” Specs teased.

“No, I-”

“Please,” Specs continued. “You’re so into him. But that’s actually a good idea. I really don’t want to walk and we could get him to drive us.” They made the walk down the hill after checking that Albert and Elmer had everything settled. 

As they got closer to the cabin, they could hear yelling from inside. “Eat shit!” someone yelled.

Inside, Jack and Crutchie watched as Spot and Race played a vicious game of Mario Kart. They sat on the couch together, hurling insults at each other while a forgotten bag of Cheetos lay between them. Just as the Flushing guys came in, Spot hit Race with a red shell in the game and pulled ahead, crossing the finish line first. “Man,  _ fuck you _ !” Race yelled. “Rematch!”

“You’ve lost six times!” Spot yelled back, barely containing his laughter. “You owe me that ten bucks!” 

“You’re cheating!”   
“How?”

“I have a  _ concussion _ !”

Spot threw down the controller and crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m Racetrack Higgins,” he teased. “I have a concussion because I can’t keep my car on the road in life  _ or in Mario Kart _ !” But as he yelled, Spot set up a new round.

During a break in the yelling, David cut in. “We’re going to the handyman building. Want to come?”

“We’re busy,” Race seethed as he chose his character.

“We’ll go,” Jack said followed by a nod from Crutchie. “Besides, you’ll probably want my sick ride.”

They left Spot and Race in the rec room and piled into the golf cart. It wasn’t made to seat five people, so Jack and David took the front seats while Crutchie and Specs sat on the backwards facing backseat, with Romeo sitting on Specs’ lap. They drove down near the art hut before parking the cart at the edge of the woods. They turned on their flashlights and were led by Specs down a dark, sad excuse for a path. It looked like it had barely been touched. The five of them walked slowly, partially because of the darkness, but also because Crutchie was having a bit of trouble navigating the wild trail, although he wouldn’t admit it. 

Finally, they emerged into a small clearing with a dilapidated building in the middle. It was similar to the Brooklyn cabin, but had clearly been out of use for years. Specs pushed the door of the cabin open and it swung open with an ominous creak. By the light of the flashlight, David could see that they were in a large room that seemed to be used for storage. In the corner, he could see what looked like an upright piano, as well as countless boxes and plastic tubs full of who knows what. But the creepiness was not the main thing that David noticed. “Why does it smell like weed in here?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.

The other guys laughed. “The responsible head counselor in me says that I have no idea, and that I won’t stop investigating until I figure out who’s been smoking in here,” Jack said. “But the actual me says that it’s just Mush and Blink. They like to take their breaks in here.” Crutchie reached under a ratty armchair and pulled out a box full of bowls, lighters, and rolling papers, which he showed David. 

Specs grabbed a lantern from an end table and he and Romeo sat down, turning the lantern on. It illuminated their faces below with classic scary camp story lighting. “Sit down,” Romeo demanded, and the other three dropped to the floor, forming a circle.

“Okay, so, this is a true story,” Specs said, clearly taking on the role of narrator. “Back when we actually had a handyman here, they lived in some house right outside of camp. I think the camp’s renting it out now. But before  _ that, _ the handyman used to live in this building. Back in like, the seventies. So this one handyman that we had used to store some of his tools in here, to make it easy when he had to get up and go to work the next day.”

Specs, with Romeo’s help, launched into a long, gory, and unlikely story about someone sneaking into the camp and killing the handyman with an axe by chopping his arm off. “And now,” Specs continued. “The camp, and especially  _ this cabin _ is haunted by the ghost of the handyman.”

There was a moment of silence, before David rolled his eyes. “That’s it?” he asked.

Romeo looked offended. “Yeah, that’s  _ it _ ! It’s terrifying.”

“It’s also bullshit,” David accused.

“It isn’t!” Romeo insisted. “I’ve  _ seen _ the ghost.”

“You’ve seen the ghost of the one-armed handyman?” David asked skeptically.

Romeo nodded vigorously. “Yeah! I was sleeping in one of the cabins by Harlem when I was a kid here, right? And I couldn’t sleep, so I was looking out the window by my bunk, and I saw this… thing walking around. It was a man, wearing a tie-dye tshirt, and he  _ only had one arm _ .”

David shook his head. “You work at a summer camp. How do you know you didn’t just see a counselor doing rounds? Half the people here wear tie-dye all the time, anyway.”

“When you see a ghost, you  _ know  _ it,” Romeo said. Specs nodded next to him.

“ _ Okay _ ,” David said. “That was a lot of hype for a dumb ghost story.”

 

While the other counselors were sitting around telling scary stories, Albert and Elmer were on patrol. Their campers had been put to bed, but they were always pretty lax about bedtimes for the teenagers, since most of these kids normally stayed up later than the counselors did. The main rule was that the lights had to be off, they had to stay in their cabins unless they were on the way to the bathroom, and they had to be quiet enough that anyone who wanted to sleep could.

The campers were following none of those rules.

All evening, Albert and Elmer ran between the three cabins telling the campers to be quiet, and they all got the same response. “Yeah,  _ okay _ ,” followed by laughter. 

Finally, they ended up on the hill, standing between the cabins, and shouting whenever they could hear the campers. At one point, they could hear Itey complaining about how he didn’t have good enough service to open a Snapchat, and Albert and Elmer shared a resigned look. 

Cabin by cabin, they went through, confiscating cell phones, which weren’t allowed at camp. None of the campers were happy about giving them up, but the counselors put their feet down, even taking a few backup phones from the more inventive campers. 

They went back to the cabin after the cabins were finally dark and quiet with a big bag full of cell phones.

 

When they got back to Manhattan, Specs and Romeo made the hike back up to Flushing, slightly annoyed with David, and the other guys went back into the cabin. Race and Spot weren’t playing video games anymore, and Race’s door was closed. Spot’s backpack was still in the rec room, and they were being suspiciously quiet for two people who yell at each other eighty percent of the time, so everyone agreed that it would be best not to disturb whatever they were doing in Race’s room. 

Crutchie went to shower and Jack and David took a seat on Jack’s bed, leaning against the wall. “You let me down, Jacky,” David said.

“How so, Davey?” Jack asked.

“You made me think there was something really interesting about the handyman cabin, but that was probably the dumbest story I’ve ever heard.”

“What if I told you that I saw the handyman ghost, too?” 

David rolled his eyes. “I’d say you’re full of shit and you’d lose most of my respect.”

“A skeptic, huh?” Jack asked. 

“A realistic person,” David corrected.

They were quiet for a moment, until Jack looked down to David’s hands, which were resting on his knees. “You’re bleeding,” Jack finally said.

“What? No, I’m- oh. I guess I am,” David stuttered. There was a thin cut across his right hand. He vaguely remembered scratching it on a briar on the way out of the woods. “It’s fine.” 

Jack was up in a second, rifling through his drawers. He came back with a plastic pencil case, which he flipped open to reveal a small first aid kit inside. “Here,” he said, withdrawing a bandaid. Jack carefully applied the bandage to David’s hand, smoothing the adhesive edges down gently. 

“It’s just a tiny cut,” David said. “You don’t really need to worry about it.”

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand,” Jack challenged. He and David locked eyes then, Jack’s intense stare reflecting in David’s questioning one. Jack’s hands were still on David’s, and his thumb slowly traced the outline of the bandaid. 

The moment seemed to last forever, until David shook his head, breaking the spell. “I have to go,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I have campers…”

“Stay,” Jack urged. “Fifteen teenagers don’t need five counselors watching them.”

“I don’t want to bother Crutchie.”

“Crutchie thinks you’re great.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Just stay here.”

David shook his head and stood up, leaving Jack alone on the bed. “I can’t, Jack. Sorry.” He grabbed his backpack and, all alone, walked back up to his cabin in the dark.

 

“You’ve got it bad,” Spot said from the doorway after Davey left.

“What?” Jack sputtered.

“Are you ever going to ask him out?” Spot prodded.

“How did you-”

“Race told me,” Spot said. Race stood in the doorway to his own room, looking vaguely guilty. “He also told me that he doesn’t approve, but you should really ignore him.”

Jack opened his mouth, then realized what was going on. “You two have a bet going, don’t you?”

“Ask him out or I’ll be out a lot of money,” Spot said dangerously. 

Jack scowled at Race. “You’re setting yourself up for failure, Racetrack,” he finally said with a sigh. “I feel like we’re balancing and it’s bound to fall one way or another pretty soon.”

 

For the next few nights, Jack and David fell into a routine. David started riding around with Jack on the golf cart during all of his breaks, and after putting the campers to bed, they would hang out every night in Jack’s hammock at the bottom of the hill, talking well into the night until one of them inevitably started dozing off onto the other’s shoulder. They flirted shamelessly, trading jabs and compliments back and forth. On Wednesday night, it got kind of chilly, so they shared a blanket, huddling close underneath to escape the cold. Crutchie was actively rooting for them to get together, and even Race had stopped telling Jack what a bad idea he thought it all was.

Of course, Race was occupied most of the time. His face was healing just as it should, and he and Spot were spending a  _ lot _ of time together. Neither of them were fans of PDA, especially since there was a big rule against it around campers, but they snuck off together any time they got a chance. It was a good week all around.

 

On Thursday night, David started the walk down the hill to Manhattan, carrying a book. He wanted to read part of it out loud to Jack after a conversation they had had about the book earlier that day. But just as David got to the bottom of the hill, someone with a head of long, brown hair beat him to Manhattan. From his place in the dark, David could see Jack open the door and hug Katherine Plumber tightly before grabbing her by the hand and pulling her inside. David stood, frozen, on the road, feeling like a golf ball was stuck somewhere in his throat. 

Slowly, David turned and started back up the hill, where the Flushing guys looked up in surprise. “What are you doing back?” Romeo asked. “I thought you were going to hang out with Jack.”

“He’s busy,” David said quietly, before laying in his bunk, where he opened a book and tried- and failed- to distract himself. 

 

“Katherine!” Jack said in surprise as he grabbed her into a strong hug. He had come to the door, expecting Davey, but Katherine was good, too. They hadn’t seen enough of each other this summer. Jack grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, where they collapsed onto the rec room couch. “What’s up?”

“Thought I’d come visit,” Katherine said. “It’s been a really crazy week and I could use a break. Want to go up to the observation deck for a little while?” Ever since before they got together, Katherine and Jack used to “borrow” canoes from their respective camps and paddle across the lake to hang out. When their relationship became more physical, they would sneak up to the observation deck to make out before Katherine paddled back to her own camp.

“I can’t, Katherine. There’s a guy,” he said with a shy smile.

Katherine sat up on her heels and clapped her hands together once. “Okay, nevermind the observation deck. I can find someone else to mess around with. Tell me  _ everything _ .” 

“Remember Davey?” Jack asked.

“The new kid? Sarah’s brother?”

Jack nodded. “Yeah. He’s kind of amazing. He’s like,  _ really _ smart, and also sarcastic, and funny, even though I don’t think he knows he is, and we hang out pretty much every chance we get. And I’m pretty sure he likes me, too.”

“Are you going to ask him out?” Katherine asked. 

“I want to. I just don’t know when.”

He and Katherine kept talking for a while, until Jack glanced at his watch. “Uh, no offence… but Davey usually comes to hang out every night, and I don’t want to miss him, so…”

“Say no more!” Katherine laughed. “Besides, I may have my eye on someone back at my own camp, anyway,” she said with a wink. She kissed Jack on the cheek, grabbed her things, and quietly slipped back down to the lake, where she pushed her canoe away from shore and gracefully hopped in.

Jack hurried out to his hammock, where he waited for Davey. And waited. And waited. But Davey never came down the hill, and Jack fell asleep in the hammock, alone and disappointed. 


	15. He likes coffee but he doesn't like tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blink has a party.

The next morning, Jack found Davey by the coffee bar in the dining hall. “What happened last night?” he asked. “I waited for you.”

“I was pretty tired last night,” Davey replied coldly, as he carefully measured a bit of sugar into his coffee.

“Oh, okay,” Jack replied. “You’re coming to Blink’s party tonight, right?”

“Probably. I’m riding over with the other Flushing guys.” Davey gave his coffee a quick stir. “See you later.” Jack watched in defeat as Davey sat down at a table with Albert and Elmer, leaving him alone at the coffee bar. It was sort of hard to tell, but it really seemed like Davey was mad at him, and Jack had no idea why.

 

The day passed without incident. Jack and Race handled checkout with Crutchie’s help, while David got his group ready to go, cleaned the unit, and successfully avoided Jack for the rest of the day. It was embarrassing how upset he was about Katherine coming, but he knew what Jack and Katherine did together. And for a while, at least, David really thought that Jack was over Katherine and, more importantly, into him. The guys in his cabin got David to admit what was going on and they were appropriately furious at Jack. 

Finally, their group of campers were all gone and the Flushing guys met the rest of the staff in Manhattan, where a noticeably downtrodden Jack led a staff meeting. There was no mention made of the party, probably because, David realized, the Delanceys were in the room and no one wanted them there. 

Jack dismissed the group before telling them to be back by eleven on Sunday, and they dispersed. Most of the guys stuck around camp. The party wouldn’t be starting until later that night. Blink and Mush sped off in Blink’s car to get set up, Albert left to go pick up his girlfriend, and a few guys who were spending the weekend at home slowly trickled away from camp.

David stuck with the remaining guys in his cabin, who had plans to go into town to eat at a Mexican restaurant before the party. They changed into what Romeo referred to as “real person clothes” and then piled into Elmer’s car. Romeo refused to let Specs drive again.

In town, Specs convinced Romeo and David to get margaritas, since Elmer was driving anyway. They got progressively louder as they worked their way through the drinks, and Romeo and Specs flirted shamelessly across the table to each other. At one point, David felt something against his shin and scowled. “You’re trying to play footsie with the wrong guy, Specs.” Romeo spit out a bit of margarita and almost banged his head on the table laughing. 

“Sorry, Mom,” Specs laughed, and Romeo nodded along eagerly.

“Oh, my god! He’s  _ totally _ the mom friend!” Romeo half-shouted.

“Can’t I at least be the dad friend?” David asked.

“It’s not a gender thing,” Specs said. “But you know, every group has to have a mom and you’re totally the mom. I’m usually the dad friend, though, so I guess we’re married.”

They ate, drank, and cut up for a while longer until Elmer announced that it was time to get going. He programmed Blink’s address into his phone and drove the three now tipsy older boys across town to the house.

Blink lived in a big house full of roommates, which they had rented together for a few years. It had become the official camp party house, and there were already a lot of cars parked outside, even though everyone carpooled. David recognized a few girls from the camp across the lake and groaned inwardly. He really didn’t want to deal with his sister and  _ Katherine _ at a party. 

Inside, most of the people were already there, lounging on couches, playing drinking games, and blasting music. In the kitchen, there was a keg and a cooler full of jungle juice, as well as trays of Jello shots in the fridge and cans of beer floating in a kiddie pool full of ice water. Mush was in the kitchen when they arrived, and shoved plastic shot glasses into everyone’s hands. “Catch up!” he yelled over the noise.

“We pregamed,” Specs yelled, even louder, but the boys all took the shots. Specs turned to Elmer. “We’re all crashing here tonight, so don’t worry about driving!”

A group of people yelling broke through the air, and David wandered off to investigate. In the next room, a huge crowd of people were gathered around a huge, glowing table lit with tons of purple lights. “What is that?” David asked Blink, who was standing next to him. 

“Regulation beer pong table,” Blink said. “My pride and joy.” 

“Ask him how much it cost,” Romeo said, nudging Blink. 

He was almost afraid to ask, but David did as Romeo said. “Four hundred dollars!” Blink announced proudly. At the table, a couple of girls from the other camp were standing at one end, and Race and Spot were at the other, about to take their shots. 

“Back right,” Race announced, before sinking the ping pong ball in his hand neatly into the back right cup at the other end of the table. The girl across from him cursed but knocked back the beer in the cup. Race, it appeared, was really, really good at beer pong. Spot was miserably bad. They used to play against each other but one year, Race finally took pity on Spot and they partnered up. Race made the shots and Spot heckled the competition and drank the beer. 

David watched the rest of the game, which Race and Spot (mainly Race) won easily. They cheered and then executed a perfectly choreographed chest bump before the next victims, Blink and Mush, stepped up to play them. 

David got bored watching after a while and filled a solo cup with the jungle juice, which was blue and tasted suspiciously like it was just made up of blue Gatorade and Everclear. He was already getting pretty fuzzy by this point, though, so it didn’t really matter. Finch yelled from a seat on the floor for David to join a game of King’s Cup. He hadn’t ever really gone to parties in college, so most of the drinking games were new to him. The guys explained the rules quickly, saying that he would “figure it out as we go”. 

As they played, David got more and more drunk, and finally needed to break the seal. He stumbled off in search of a bathroom, but there was a long line. According to Romeo, who was banging on the door and yelling, someone was pooping. David spotted the door to the backyard and headed toward it.

Outside, a group of guys were getting ready to shotgun a few beers on the deck when David came out. He spotted the treeline and set off towards it, but missed the two steps from the deck to the ground and fell. In a flash, two sets of arms were pulling him up and David turned to see Jack and Crutchie supporting him. “Are you okay?” Crutchie asked. 

“What are you  _ doing _ ?” Jack asked at the same time.

“I’m fine,” David said bitterly, brushing grass from his knees. “I need to pee.”

“Crutchie, can you go get him some water?” Jack asked. Crutchie hurried off to the kitchen, leaving them alone. 

“I’m fine,” David said again, pulling his arm free and storming off toward the treeline. Jack trailed behind, turning away when David unzipped his pants to pee on a tree. By the time he was done, Crutchie was back with a solo cup full of water, which he offered to Davey, who waved it away.

“Drink some water,” Jack said. “Future Davey will thank you.” David stared at the cup for a minute, but his rational side overpowered the side that was mad at Jack, and he took it. “What have you been drinking, anyway?” 

“The jungle juice,” David admitted. “And a few margaritas beforehand.”

Crutchie laughed, and Jack shook his head. “There’s your problem! You should really switch to beer.”

“I don’t like beer,” David mumbled.

“But you like blue Gatorade and Everclear?” Crutchie asked incredulously. “Amazing.”

“And another thing!” David ranted. “I don’t have a problem, I just had to pee and I tripped. Worry about yourself, Jack.” He turned and stormed off, but Jack grabbed his arm. “Let go of me,” David demanded.

Jack let go immediately. “Sorry. Why are you mad at me?” Crutchie, sensing a heavy conversation coming, snuck away to go hang out with JoJo and Boots, who had found a beer funnel somewhere. 

“I’m not mad,” David snapped.

“You’re obviously mad. You’ve been avoiding me all day. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

“Ask Katherine,” David said. In his head, rational David was screaming to drunk David, calling him crazy, irrational, and jealous.

Jack just looked confused. “What are you talking about? Katherine isn’t even here tonight. She and Sarah had to stay at work.”

“Yeah, I know,” David said. “But she was there last night.” Inside he was still streaming.  _ Stop! Stop talking! You will regret all of this in the morning! Go back inside and shut up!  _

Clarity dawned on Jack’s face. “Oh, yeah. She came over to hang out last night. But she left early. We totally still could have-”

“I know what you two do when you hang out,” David said, his drunk self pinning his rational self to the floor of his mind. 

“What? No, Davey. We don’t do that anymore,” Jack said, almost pleading. “Besides… why do you care? Jealous?”

“No!” David protested. 

“You are!” Jack accused. 

David shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Jack,” he finally said before turning and going back to the house, suddenly feeling much more sober. Inside, the noise had dropped significantly. Everyone was staring in shock or amusement at Spot and Race, who were tangled together on the couch like they were the only ones in the universe. That was one way to tell everyone. 

David knocked back the rest of his water. He suddenly didn’t feel like drinking anymore. He took a seat on the couch next to Albert and his girlfriend, who he introduced as Smalls, who were playing a game of Never Have I Ever with a few other counselors there. “Davey?” Romeo asked from his seat on the floor, where he leaned against Specs’ knees. “You playing?”

“Huh?” David asked. “Oh. No.” He was still mad at Jack, but more than that, he was embarrassed. They weren’t even together. Sure, David liked Jack. And he thought that Jack liked him, too. And sure, it had seemed like they were teetering on the verge of getting together. But they didn’t have any kind of ownership over each other. Jack was free to kiss whoever he wanted to. 

The party wore on until well into the night. Throughout the night, people drifted off to the basement, where Blink, his roommates, and a few of their friends had pooled what seemed like every air mattress in town for all of the drunk camp counselors who didn’t need to be out driving. A few had assigned DDs, who eventually collected their friends and left, but most of them stayed. Jack knocked back a couple more beers, but kept himself under control, and David wasn’t drinking anymore at all since the incident in the yard. 

At one point, Mush and Blink lit up a blunt, which started to give David a headache, so he went back out to the backyard. At first glance, the yard seemed empty, until he spotted someone on their hands and knees near a bush. David rushed over to find Crutchie throwing up, looking generally awful. “Are you okay?” David asked worriedly. 

Crutchie nodded. “Yeah,” he said, slurring a bit. “I got into a chugging contest with Dutchy. Davey, listen to me.” He grabbed the front of David’s shirt and pulled him close. “Listen to me, Davey.”

“I’m listening,” David said with a small laugh.

“Don’t try to outdrink Dutchy. You’ll lose.”

“Dutchy’s also about a foot taller than you,” David pointed out. It was common knowledge that Crutchie and Spot were the shortest staff members at the camp. 

Crutchie nodded, then winced. “Goddamn, that hurts,” he grumbled.

“Your leg?”

“No. Well, yeah, but that always hurts. Turn away for a minute, will ya?” David turned around and could hear Crutchie rustling around for a minute before finally, “Okay, I’m decent.” He was holding some black fabric. “I don’t normally wear my binder this long at a time.”

“I- oh,” David stuttered, realizing what Crutchie was holding.

“I trust you,” Crutchie said drunkenly. “You won’t tell anyone, right? Jack knows, and Race and Spot and Medda, but that’s it. Oh… and someone else now, too.”

“Of course I won’t.”

“Good.” Crutchie sat back on the ground, sounding a bit more sober after throwing up. “I just told you something really personal, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So would you believe me if I told you something else personal?” David nodded. “You need to talk to Jack.”

 

As the party died down, Jack stepped outside for a bit of fresh air, and he found Davey and Crutchie sitting on the deck, talking. Crutchie turned when he heard Jack open the door, hoisted himself up, and limped inside, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Sorry about earlier,” Davey said as Jack took a seat. 

Jack nodded. “Katherine did come over to make out,” he admitted. It only lasted for a fraction of a second, but he could see an expression of hurt flash across Davey’s face. “But we didn’t. I told her that I like someone else and  _ nothing _ happened. We spent the whole time talking about you and then I sent her back to her camp so me and you could still hang out.”

“Me?” Davey asked uncertainly. 

“Come on, you know I like you,” Jack said. Davey didn’t say anything. Jack shook his leg as he waited for Davey to say something. ‘I like you, too’. ‘I’m just not into you’. ‘Sorry, I’m actually straight’.  _ Something _ . “A response would be cool,” he finally said, after a silence that went on way too long. “You don’t have to say you like me, or anything. Just say  _ something _ .” 

“I’m not good at responding to things like that,” Davey said awkwardly. 

“Fine,” Jack said with a sigh. “Then I’ll talk. I think you’re really smart, and really cool and-  _ oh, wait _ !” His mortification was drowned out by excitement. “Since you haven’t been talking to me all day, I’ve been working on the riddle!”

“Go for it,” Davey said weakly with a dazed expression.

“I like bushes but I don’t like trees,” Jack said.

“Yes.”

“I like Race but I don’t like Spot.”

“Right.”

“I like vanilla but I don’t like chocolate.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t like coffee but not like  _ tea _ ,” Jack blathered. “You like coffee and you don’t like  _ T _ !”

Davey stared at Jack for a minute, nodding, before finally grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him in close, and kissing him deeply. “You got it,” he finally said. 

Jack stared, wide-eyed, at Davey. “Are you still drunk?” he asked.

“Not anymore,” Davey replied, and Jack pulled Davey back in. 

“Very sneaky,” Jack said in between kisses. “Giving a spelling riddle to a dyslexic guy.”

“I didn’t give the riddle to you,” Davey said. “You just butted in-” he was cut off for a minute- “to a conversation between my campers and I.” 

They stayed there on the deck, kissing for a long time, before Jack finally pulled away sharply. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Were you just going to make me suffer until I figured out your stupid riddle?”

“I had to test your critical thinking skills,” Davey deadpanned, then laughed. “I just sort of froze, to be honest.”


	16. Prime Real Estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Race and Spot settle a bet, Jack and Davey have a marathon, and Specs hears something he shouldn't.

Jack woke up the next morning in a basement full of camp counselors, none of whom were awake yet. He grabbed his phone where it lay between him and Davey on the double bed sized air mattress, and saw that it was only 6:05 in the morning. He groaned quietly but could already feel the hangover attacking. There was no use trying to go back to sleep, but Jack didn’t want to get up and risk jostling the air mattress, waking Davey up. 

Davey was curled on his side in a ball facing Jack, dead asleep with his mouth hanging partially open. Any walls he normally had up while he was awake were completely gone. He was also, Jack noticed, a major blanket hog. He lay there for a while, checking his phone, until accidentally clicking on a video, which started playing, loudly, for a second before Jack could turn it off. “Whattime izzit?” Davey mumbled.

“It’s early,” Jack whispered. “Go back to sleep.” Davey nodded sleepily, pulled the covers even closer around him, and was immediately asleep again. Jack took a moment to look around the room. A few feet away, Race and Spot were spooned together while Crutchie, JoJo, and Finch were on one of the bigger mattresses. As Jack lay there, Spot groggily opened his eyes and they made eye contact. 

“Coffee?” Spot whispered to Jack, and Jack nodded. Spot, who was the big spoon, carefully withdrew his arm, but Race, who was an extremely heavy sleeper, didn’t even stir. Jack carefully got up from the air mattress and he and Spot tiptoed through the basement across the many air mattresses to go upstairs and make coffee. 

In the living room, Specs and Mush were already dressed to go for their run, and they were both lacing up their shoes. “JoJo’s still not up yet, is he?” Specs asked.

Jack shook his head. “You guys seriously feel good enough to run?”

Mush fixed Jack with a withering stare. “Jacky. I feel like I’m being murdered. But running it off helps.” He and Specs finished getting ready and headed out the door together.

Spot was already scooping coffee to make a full pot. He and Jack had bonded when Spot first joined the camp staff and they realized that they had the same form of hangover. Instead of the stereotypical headache hangover, they both always woke up extremely early after drinking and then felt nauseous until they finally got coffee and greasy food. 

The two of them silently drank their coffee as the other counselors started to stir and emerge from the basement. Several more pots of coffee were made as more cups were poured, and Jack was proud to say that he only threw up once. Like hungover shepherds, the people with cars rounded up their groups and started to leave. Finally, Davey came upstairs, with Race just behind him. Davey’s hair stuck up on one side where he had been lying on it, and Race was wearing a pair of black-framed glasses. 

Race took the mug out of Spot’s hand and took a big sip, then made a face. “Who the fuck drinks black coffee?” he grumbled.

“Feel free to get your own,” Spot countered.

Race shook his head. “Can we just like, go get breakfast? I need food.”

“I’ll go get Crutchie.” Jack went back downstairs, where Crutchie was one of the people still asleep. “Crutchie, wake up,” he said, shaking Crutchie’s shoulder. 

“Noo,” Crutchie moaned into his pillow. “Fuck off, Jack. I’m sleeping.”

“We’re going to get breakfast,” Jack said.

“ _ Fuck  _ breakfast.”

Finch stirred next to Crutchie, still half asleep as well. “He can ride with me,” he said groggily. “Now shut up.”

Jack shrugged and went back upstairs. “It’s just us,” he said. “Crutchie’s mean in the morning.” 

 

The four of them all piled into Spot’s Jeep, and loud music started blaring the minute he cranked the engine. Race slapped at the radio a couple of times from the passenger seat until finally, the music stopped. “What?” Spot asked. “That’s a good song.”

“Spot,” Race groaned. “I can’t. I can’t today.”

They headed for a hole in the wall diner nearby, which Jack said had the best hangover meals in the world. “I’m not hungover,” David said as they walked inside and found a booth. 

“ _ How _ are you not hungover?” Jack asked, shocked.

David shrugged. “ _ Someone _ made me drink a ton of water last night after I fell off the deck.”

“Oh, good point. You’re welcome, then.” A waitress came by and took their orders, consisting of coffees, water, and a variety of greasy breakfast foods. 

“Since when do you wear glasses?” David asked Race, who was propping his head up on his hand.

Race frowned. “Since I’m too tired and sick to bother with contacts,” he said. “I hate glasses.”

“I don’t know,” Spot said, studying Race. “I like them.” He paused, then shrugged. “No homo, though.”

The waitress brought their food out quickly, dropping plates in front of them. They all had a lot of food, but Race’s breakfast looked like it could probably feed about five people. “How much do you guys remember about last night?” Jack asked Race and Spot wryly. 

They exchanged a look. “Beer pong,” Race said.

“Smalls yelling at Dutchy,” Spot added.

“Well, you started playing Smoke and Fire,” Jack started, and Race groaned.

“What’s Smoke and Fire?” David asked.

“It’s a probability game,” Race said as he shoveled what looked like an entire pancake into his mouth. “You have to guess if your card is red or black, then high or low, then the suit, and a few other things. If you’re wrong, you drink. If you’re right, the dealer drinks.”

“Sounds like a fast way to get fucked up.”

Race’s jaw dropped. “You just said fuck! I’ve never heard you say fuck!”

David nodded. “Yeah, because we work at a summer camp. For  _ children _ .”

“Spot says fuck in front of the kids all the time.”

“I do not!” Spot protested. “That was one time!”

“Twice,” Jack interjected. “You told the kids at the waterfall- and I quote- ‘no fucking around and shit’. And that summer Ben dyed his hair green, you called it fucked up, to his face.”

“Okay, I forgot that one,” Spot admitted. “At least I don’t flick the kids off.”

“I got over that!” Jack said. “It was just one summer. Flicking people off is habit forming, you know,” he told David. “It was kind of a reflex my second year at camp. But anyway,” he said, coming back to the topic at hand. “You guys played Smoke and Fire with Skittery and some of the girls, and let’s just say, everyone knows about you two now.”

“What do you mean?” Race asked. “I mean, most people already knew.”

“You were making out pretty heavily on the couch for a  _ long _ time,” David said with a smirk.

“Whoops,” Race said. Spot stared straight down into his eggs, embarrassed. 

“Do you want some of my toast?” David asked Jack, who had been making his meal into sandwiches.

Jack nodded and took the piece of toast from David with a small smile. Spot looked up then, and pointed at the two of them. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “Does Race owe me a lot of money?”

“He does,” Jack said smugly.

Race scowled. “I don’t have that much cash. I’ll Venmo you later.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” David asked.

“Race and Spot were betting on whether I’d ask you out,” Jack explained. 

“Okay, so?” David asked. “You never actually asked me out.”

“Yes, I did,” Jack protested. “You _ do  _ remember last night, right?”

“I remember,” David said. Race and Spot were following the conversation back and forth like a tennis match. “But you never technically asked me out.”

“Yes, I did!”

“No, you didn’t. Not in so many words.” David turned to Race and Spot. “Were there any bets on whether or not I’d ask Jack out?” Race shook his head, suddenly looking hopeful. Jack opened his mouth to say something but David beat him to it. “Will you go out with me?” he asked quickly. 

“Ha!” Race half-yelled. “Sucks to suck, Conlon!” Spot grumbled something profane under his breath. “I’ll buy breakfast to make up for it, babe.” 

They both froze, contemplating that. “No, we don’t call each other babe,” Spot said decidedly. “That was weird.”

“Let’s never do that again.”

They finished breakfast, and Jack and Spot both started feeling a lot better, although Race still felt like he was about to die. As promised, Race bought Spot’s meal, but there was a bit of a hiccup when the waitress asked Jack and David how they would be paying. “I’ve got it,” they both said simultaneously. Finally, Jack convinced the waitress to bring the check to him, and they left to go back to camp.

Crutchie still wasn’t back, and Race still had a headache, so he and Spot went back to his room. “Do you want to watch those movies?” Jack asked.

“Yeah!” David replied enthusiastically. “I’ll run up to my cabin to get them.”

“Meet me in the lodge,” Jack said. “I’ll make some snacks and we can just put them on the projector.” 

David grabbed his Lord of the Rings DVDs and made the short walk to the lodge, where Jack had the projector ready to go and was making popcorn in the kitchen. David popped the first disc into the DVD player and settled into the couch just as Jack came out with a huge bowl and a couple of sodas. “Are you still hungover?” David asked as he pressed play.

Jack shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “I always feel better after I’ve got some food.” He leaned in to kiss David just as the opening narration began, which David sank into for a moment before abruptly pulling away. “Are you okay?” Jack asked.

“I’m fine,” David said. “But this is important plot that you’re not paying attention to.”

“Just give me a summary,” Jack whispered, moving his lips against David’s ear. 

“Not a chance,” David whispered back as a shiver ran down his spine. “Pay attention.”

“How long are these movies?” Jack asked as he pulled David close to his chest. 

“Long. Pay attention.”

 

They watched two of the movies, extended edition, of course, while cuddling there on the couch, but still missed a good bit of the plot when the closeness became too much. Jack got bored by the scenes where everyone was just running across the scenery. David wasn’t so interested in the battle scenes, although Jack loved them. It was during a battle near the beginning of the third movie when Specs sprinted into the lodge, interrupting a particularly heavy makeout scene where David had Jack pinned to the couch.

“Jack-” Specs panted. “I- whoa, sorry guys. I didn’t know this was finally happening. But we’ve got to talk.” He put his hands on his knees, winded, and something in his expression made David and Jack spring apart and pause the movie.

“What’s up?” Jack asked, straightening his shirt and reaching for his hat, which he pulled on over his mussed hair. He slung an arm around David’s shoulder casually.

“You know how I’m taking that online summer class?” Specs asked. Jack nodded. “I was up in admin using the wifi and working on a paper, and Pulitzer, Weisel, and the Delancey brothers came in. But they didn’t know I was there. And I could hear everything they were saying, you know, and apparently Pulitzer’s going to try to buy the camp.”

“What?” David asked. “Why? He already runs the place, there’s no reason for him to buy it.”

Specs shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t buy it for that. He wants to buy the  _ land _ . For a subdivision. He’s trying to convince the board to sell.”

“He can’t do that!” Jack protested. “The board would never sell!”

“For enough money, people are willing to do a lot,” David pointed out quietly. “Why were the Delancey’s there, though?”

“Oh, yeah!” Specs said. “Their dad owns a real estate development company, which they’re going to inherit. Pulitzer’s the investor, but the Delancey’s are the builders.”

“They won’t sell,” Jack said resolutely. “There’s no way.”

“Real estate’s big, especially since this would be lakefront property,” David said, drawing on what he knew from his business major. “And you know, parents are always saying that kids don’t want to do things outside anymore. If he could make it seem like the camp’s failing, then the board might think selling’s a good idea.”

Jack pursed his lips, thinking hard. His fingers tapped nervously against his knee as his leg shook. “They can’t put a development here,” Jack finally said. “I can’t let that happen. Specs, how many people are back yet?”

“I don’t know,” Specs admitted. “I’ve been up at admin pretty much all day. I ran straight here after I overheard their meeting.”

“Find everyone you can, and tell them to meet in handyman at… I don’t know, nine o’clock. We need a staff meeting.”

“Delanceys excluded, of course,” David added, and Jack nodded. 

“You got it, boss,” Specs said, before going straight back out the door in search of counselors. 


	17. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The staff calls a meeting to deal with the Pulitzer problem, and two visitors show up to help.

That night in the handyman cabin, a very confused staff gathered around an equally upset Jack. A lot of people wouldn’t be back until the next morning, but the majority of them were there, and it was the best time possible for them all to get together without campers or Delanceys listening in. Once everyone who was coming arrived, Jack motioned for Specs to tell them all what he heard in admin. 

The room erupted with guys yelling. They all suddenly knew why Pulitzer and Weisel always stayed in the office, and why Oscar and Morris were constantly disappearing. They were working for their dad on the designs and pitch. “So what we need is ideas,” Jack said. He and David had gone to Race and Spot that evening and tried to come up with a few plans, but they didn’t have much to go on. 

“We could raise money and buy the camp ourselves,” Snoddy suggested.

“There’s no way we can afford outbid Pulitzer,” Spot snapped.

“Besides,” David said. “I think if we tried to do that, it would mean people digging into savings or college funds or whatever, and that wouldn’t be right.”

“Then we start a Kickstarter, or a Go Fund Me or something to outbid him,” Tumbler said.

“Same problem,” Spot said in annoyance.

“Not necessarily,” David said slowly. “We can’t outbid him, you’re right. But if we can show that the camp isn’t losing money, then it might convince the board that it’s still a success. But I don’t think money is going to be a good option for us. We just have to prove that the camp isn’t failing.”

“But it isn’t,” Crutchie pointed out from his seat next to Jack. “Jack said himself that enrollment is at max capacity.”

“You’re right,” David said. “But I’m thinking that he’s going to paint it to look like things are going badly.”

“Then we just write to the board and tell them it’s not,” Romeo said.

David nodded. “Yeah, we should definitely do that. But we need to be prepared for them not to believe us. But the question is: what could Pulitzer do to make it seem like a failure?”

They were all silent for a moment, before Crutchie looked up from his lap slowly. “He could blow the budget,” he said, realization dawning. “Or make it look like we have.”

“How?” Specs asked.

“Program leads are in charge of ordering supplies for their own programs. And I’ve been given a  _ lot _ of money to spend in the art hut.” Crutchie said.

“We just bought all new tack in the barn,” Finch said, looking horrified. 

“We ordered new life jackets last week,” JoJo added.

“Okay,” Jack said, nodding slowly. “So we shut down spending. If he gives you more to spend, just don’t. Necessities only. Send him to me or Race if Pulitzer’s got a problem with that. Barn staff… I know Morris is in charge but try to keep it under control, however you can.”

“Rip up the order forms, got it,” Skittery said.

“What else?” Jack asked.

“Incidents,” Spot said slowly, as if the word tasted bad coming out of his mouth.

“He wouldn’t dare!” Romeo half-yelled. “It’s one thing to mess with the budget- he can’t go around letting little kids get hurt!”

“I’d really hope he doesn’t,” David said, realizing what Spot meant. “But just in case, we really need to buckle down on safety.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “If you’re at archery, don’t take an eye off of your kids. Same with the barn. Because of course two of the most dangerous camp activities are run by Oscar and Morris. Guards, you’ll keep an eye out at the pool and lake?”

Spot rolled his eyes. “Please. Even if Pulitzer wasn’t shitting around, my guards don’t let anyone get away with anything.” He paused and then addressed JoJo and Boots. Dutchy wasn’t back yet. “Still, let’s do an inservice training this week.”

Race nodded and then started passing a stack of papers around. “Here’s a copy of the accreditation guidelines. We’re all kind of slack on some of these rules and we can’t let him catch us on anything.”

“It’s going to be tougher on everyone, but everything will help,” Jack said. He zeroed in on Mush and Blink, who were sitting together. “You guys have got to stop smoking at camp,” he said. “This is still technically an active storage building. I doubt they’d come down here but we’d be done in a second if Pulitzer smelled what you’ve been doing in here.” He reached under the armchair and pulled out the box full of supplies. “Can you put this in one of your cars or something?”

“You got it,” Mush replied, taking the box. 

“I’ll come back here and clean later to get the smell out,” Blink offered. 

“Other than that,” Jack said, “It’s business as usual. Just do the best you can. And if you’re able to listen in on anything, do that, but  _ don’t _ get yourself into trouble.” He and the Manhattan boys (including Spot and David, who were basically Manhattan boys now) were working on another plan, but it was kind of a long shot. The meeting was dismissed and everyone scattered.

Jack, David, and Crutchie walked back to Manhattan slowly, stopping by the art hut to send a quick text to Katherine, asking her to come over. Spot and Race had taken the golf cart to the pool to restock the first aid kit there. 

They got back to the cabin and Crutchie limped inside, grabbed a plastic box, and came straight back out. He hobbled around collecting logs from the wood pile and sticks from the edge of the treeline before kneeling next to the fire circle and carefully constructing a fire. It was dark by this point, and his face was illuminated by the small flame that grew slowly, until the logs finally caught and the immediate area was illuminated. The three boys sat on the logs around the fire, waiting for Katherine in anxious silence. 

After about half an hour, they heard a canoe pull onto the beach and two people started walking toward them from the lake. As soon as they were close enough, David could tell that it was Katherine, as expected, as well as his sister. “What are you doing here?” he asked Sarah.

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” she countered.

“I work here.”

“But you’re not in charge.”

“Stop it,” Crutchie said from the ground, where he was nudging a log into a better position, and the siblings shut up. 

Jack quickly gave Katherine and Sarah the rundown of the situation, and while they both looked concerned, Katherine seemed to withdraw into herself. “You okay?” Jack finally asked her, after he finished.

“Yeah,” Katherine said slowly. “I’m fine. Just thinking. What can we do to help?”

“I was hoping you could write something,” Jack said. Spot and Race pulled up in the golf cart then and came to join them by the fire. “You could write about the good things the camp does, what we’re trying to do right, why it shouldn’t be shut down.”

“Yeah,” Crutchie added. “Maybe if we could get enough public outcry, the board wouldn’t want to look bad by selling.”

“This could also be an environmental issue,” Sarah said. “I mean, this lake is mostly undeveloped, aside from the camps. Which makes it appealing for real estate, but it’s not so good for the environment.”

“You’re right!” David said. “God, I didn’t even think of that!” 

“That’s because I’m the smart one,” Sarah teased. “Anyway, if you could get environmental groups involved… that could help.”

Jack nodded hopefully. “That’s smart. Katherine, could you write something?”

“Are you a journalist or something?” David asked.

Katherine shook her head. “I have a blog.”

“A blog.” David deadpanned.

“Yes,” Katherine snapped defensively. “A well-known, internationally acclaimed blog with thousands of readers. I can write, but you’ve got to give me all the details. I’ll just put it into words people can understand.”

“And I’ll try to get in touch with a few contacts at conservation agencies,” Sarah said. She had just graduated with a degree in botany, and had interned with a conservation group the year before. “They won’t be able to do a full impact study without actually visiting the camp, but we can at least get a rough estimate on what kind of damage it would cause.”

Katherine grabbed a notebook and pen out of her backpack and took notes intently while Jack rambled about the benefits of camp and about their projects and goals. David had to nudge him back on track a few times, but finally Katherine nodded. “I think I can work with this. I’ll send you a draft before I publish it, but I should have something ready within a couple of days. Can I just text it to you?”

“Send it to Crutchie,” Jack said. “He’s the only one with consistent phone service.”

They wrapped up the meeting, and the girls left together. It was hard to tell in the dark, but David thought they might have been holding hands. Spot and Race wandered together up Flushing Hill towards the observation deck, leaving David, Jack, and Crutchie standing there by the fire. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Jack asked David quietly. 

David shot a quick glance at Crutchie. “I don’t want to disturb-” 

“Don’t worry about me,” Crutchie interrupted. “I’m actually going down to the barn.”

“The barn?” Jack repeated. “Why?”

Crutchie bit his lip and smiled slightly. “Going to hang out with Finch,” he said.

Jack stared for a minute before shaking his head slowly. “Finch is straight,” he said in a warning tone.

“Things are not always as they appear, Jacky,” Crutchie said, smiling for real now.

“Okay,” Jack replied. “But we’re going to talk later, alright?”

“Sure, Dad,” Crutchie said before limping off into the dark. 

Jack stared pensively into the fire, tapping his fingers against his leg again. David watched until he couldn’t take the tapping anymore, at which point he grabbed Jack’s hand. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. 

“You don’t know that,” Jack grumbled. “I mean… I’ve spent every summer here since I was eight years old, you know? I can’t watch them bulldoze Manhattan, or the art hut, or Harlem, or anything.” 

“Yeah. I get that.”

“I told you I moved out at sixteen, right?” Jack said, staring at his hand, the fingers of which were interlocked with David’s.

“Yeah,” David said. “But you never told me why.”

Jack shrugged. “My mom just never wanted me around. That’s why I came to camp so much. Because it was two months that she didn’t have to deal with me. And she always had these boyfriends in and out of the house, who definitely weren’t looking to pick up a stepson. So one day we got into this fight, because she wanted to send me to boarding school for my last few years of high school, and I didn’t want to leave my own school, right? So I just left.”

“Where did you go?” David asked.

“All over,” Jack replied. “Friend’s houses, in and out of shelters, even Medda’s for a while. I didn’t actually get my own place until I graduated, because I didn’t have time to work enough to afford rent  _ and _ go to school.” 

“Do you ever talk to your mom anymore?” 

Jack laughed humorlessly. “The last time I saw her was my eighteenth birthday,” he said, staring into the dying fire. “I was working at this store at the time, and my mom came in. And I thought she was coming to talk to me, tell me happy birthday, something, you know? But, uh, turns out she was pregnant, and she was just shopping for the baby. Didn’t even know I worked there until she walked in. I told her not to bother contacting me again. Last I heard, she got married and moved upstate somewhere.”

“What about your dad?”

Jack shrugged. “Who knows?” he said. “My mom doesn’t even know who he is.” He looked up from the fire and into David’s eyes then. “I was homeless, Davey. You know? I never slept on the streets, but I was. And this place was always here.”

“It’s still going to be here,” David said resolutely. “If you have anything to do with it.” 

Jack was silent for a minute before pulling David in for a crushing kiss. “You’re smart, Davey,” he said. “I really hope you’re right.”He pulled back and composed himself into the casual expression that David was used to. “Want to finish watching that movie? I was really enjoying it,” he said, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows. 

David laughed and they retrieved the DVD and watched the rest of the movie on David’s laptop in Jack’s bed, picking up exactly where they left off before Specs interrupted, before finally falling asleep together.


	18. Bear Mitzvah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (im so sorry for the title. im not good at puns so when comes to me, i have to roll with it.)   
> Les comes to camp and the Manhattan boys have a guys night.

The next morning, the staff who missed the meeting the night before were filled in quickly as they got back to camp, and they sat around admin, glaring at the Delanceys. Specs and Jack sat together, talking quietly with their heads close together. They had both been at camp for around fifteen years. They were the oldest, and also the most experienced. Race and Crutchie were on either side of them, with Mush hovering nearby. They had subconsciously seated themselves by camp seniority, and their very postures showed that they were not to be messed with.

Once everyone had arrived, Jack passed out rosters, and David saw that his group had the little kids. There were sixteen in the group, ranging from second grade to fifth. They planned to split the group in half by age, with Romeo and Specs taking the youngest boys and Albert, Elmer, and David getting the older ones. 

From across the room, Blink yelled to David. “Davey! Is Les Jacobs your brother?” he asked. 

“Oh,” David said, surprised. “Yeah. I totally forgot he was coming this week.”

“I was going to give you guys middle school again this week,” Jack said. “But I can’t put you in charge of your brother.”

“Honestly, thank you,” David said. “I don’t want to be his counselor.”

Scheduling was tense, and they counselors found themselves signing up for as little archery and horseback riding as they could get away with. Albert seemed like he was on the edge of a nervous break about having to deal with eight young kids, but Romeo assured him that the fourth and fifth graders weren’t  _ that _ much worse than the middle school boys. Elmer just shrugged, saying that he liked kids. 

Jack stood at the front of the room before they left to go to lunch, going over everyone’s schedules and making sure that there was no overlap. “Okay, guys,” he said, with the air of someone about to go to war. “Have a good week. And be safe.”

They walked down to lunch, leaving Jack there with Race and Crutchie, who had agreed to help with paperwork to get it over quickly. When Medda arrived, Jack stopped her outside the building to fill her in, and Medda, who spent a lot of time in the admin building, promised to keep an eye and an ear out for anything suspicious.

 

After lunch that afternoon, the counselors headed back to their units to prepare for the campers coming. Specs grabbed some solar lamps from Manhattan, which he placed at intervals heading to the bathhouse, explaining that a lot of the little kids were scared to go in the dark. “We’ll probably have a few bedwetters,” Specs explained to the newer counselors. “So just be discreet about it. Luckily, we’re close to the laundry, so you can either drop wet stuff off at Manhattan or with Medda and they’ll take care of it.”

They went over rosters one more time before campers started to arrive. There were a lot of tears shed between campers and parents, but Romeo was ready with a massive coloring book and bucket of crayons borrowed from the art hut, as well as a huge bag of Legos. 

A dad pulled David aside after dropping off his son, a scrawny, high-strung kid. “I’m August’s father,” the dad said. “I just wanted to make you aware of a few things about August. My son is gluten intolerant, lactose intolerant, and allergic to peanuts. He is not allowed to swim in the deep end of the pool, although he is a good swimmer, and he should not be expected to do any hiking. August hates lettuce, hot dogs, corn, sweet potatoes, shrimp, cereal, Indian food, and anything even remotely spicy, so if you plan to serve those for meals, alternative arrangements will need to be made.”

“Uh,” David stuttered as August’s dad held out a printed piece of paper with all of that information and more on it. “Okay.”

Specs sidled up to David then and smoothly guided August’s father through their plans for the week, saying that they would be careful about all of August’s allergies but that camp was about experiencing new things so unfortunately, they were not always able to accommodate for personal preferences, for the sake of the entire group. “As for the deep end of the pool, we have an excellent and highly trained team of lifeguards who swim test all the boys and won’t let him anywhere that they don’t feel like he will be comfortable going.”

After their conversation, David stared at Specs in awe. “How do you do that?” he asked.

“ _ Years _ of experience,” Specs said. “Besides, I used to be that kid. My mom said I was lactose intolerant my whole life, and she always said that because of my eyes, I couldn’t keep up with the activities.”

“You’re like, the most athletic person I know.”

“ _ Now _ I am. I used to be a pasty, skinny kid who never got to eat cheese.” He nodded down the hill. “Got another one coming.”

 

They made it through check-in with almost no incident, aside from a scraped knee and a bout of homesickness, and then took the boys to swim testing, where it became abundantly clear that August should  _ not _ be in the deep end, because he absolutely did  _ not  _ know how to swim. Most of the little boys in the group failed their swim tests- Spot let David in on the secret that he almost never passed the youngest boys for safety’s sake, especially since they were cracking down on safety- but about half of David’s section of the group passed. 

They went back to the cabin to let the boys change before dinner, which took about three times longer than it normally would with older boys, and Specs paired them up into a buddy system with an easy count-off system before leading them all down the hill to the dining hall for dinner.

Inside, the boys scattered to find tables. David was on his way to his usual table when Jack caught his hand before quickly sliding his hand up to a more discreet place on David’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell me I’d be meeting your parents,” Jack said quietly enough that only David could hear.

David shot him a look. “You knew my brother was coming this week. My parents weren’t just going to drop him off on the side of the road. You weren’t weird with them, were you?”

Jack looked affronted. “Excuse you,” he said. “I was my usual charming self. Except more charming.”

“So you probably looked like a serial killer,” David joked sarcastically. “Good.” He took a seat at his table with Jack, but before he could even get settled in, Les was by his side.

“Davey!” Les said excitedly. “We’re going to sit with you!” Les had already built up a group of friends consisting of three other boys from his group, including one of David’s old campers, Ben. 

“Les,” David said tiredly. “It’s great to see you, but maybe you should sit with another counselor.”

Les shook his head and resolutely sat down on David’s right hand side. “No. We’re sitting with you. Guys,” Les said, addressing his new friends. “This is Davey. He’s my brother. He’s a counselor.”

Their table was called up to get food, and Les came back with a pile of cheese and croutons on his plate. “What is that?” David asked, pointing at the pile.

“A salad,” Les stated, as if it were obvious.

David took his fork and poked at the pile and, sure enough, there wasn’t even a single leaf of lettuce underneath. “No. Just because it comes from the salad bar, that doesn’t automatically make it a salad. Try again.”

Les pouted. “But it’s hot dog night and they’re not kosher.”

David fixed Les with a stern expression. “First of all, they’re kosher beef dogs. Second, you don’t even keep kosher and you know it.”

Les, pouting, took his tray up to the counter, where Henry gave him some real food. “I didn’t know you were Jewish,” Jack said from across the table.

“Yeah,” David replied. “We’re not strict, though. We only really do some of the holidays, and we don’t follow kosher or anything, except when our grandparents come for dinner.”

“Did you have a bar mitzvah and all that?”

“Oh, yeah,” David said. “Guess the theme.”

The whole table jumped in, trying to guess the theme of David’s bar mitzvah. 

“Science.”

“Lord of the Rings.”

“Books.”

“Do you think I only like science and books?” David asked everyone. 

“What are you talking about?” Les asked when he finally came back with a plate full of actual, non-cheese food.

Jack turned to Les and fixed him with a charming smile. “Les, what was Davey’s bar mitzvah theme?”

“Oh!” Les said. “Obama!”

The table fell silent. “Obama?” Jack repeated slowly. 

“It was 2008,” David said defensively. “He was two months away from becoming president! It was a big deal!”

“ _ Please _ tell me you had those posters of yourself like the Obama ones,” Jack choked out. “The red and blue ones.”

David nodded gravely. “I’ll show you sometime. I was in the middle of an incredible awkward phase.”

 

At the opening campfire that night, Jack told a story about starfish, oceans, and helping others. It was all David could do to keep from grinning as he watched Jack sitting on the ground next to the fire, quietly commanding the entire group with just his presence. Jack was in his element here with these kids, telling stories that he had known by heart since he was a little boy, trees arching above him. David knew firsthand how hard Jack worked, but here, it seemed effortless. 

The fact that that could be taken away was almost too much. 

 

Jack finished the story, quietly dismissed the groups, and stood, stretching his legs and wiping the dirt off. He surveyed the groups, lingering on Davey, who was doing headcounts for his group, trying to herd them all into one area. 

Jack was about to walk back with Davey’s group when Crutchie grabbed him by the back of the collar, dragging him backwards toward Race. “No boyfriends tonight,” Crutchie said as soon as they were out of earshot of the kids. “I hardly ever see you guys anymore.” 

Jack nodded. “You’re right. I’m just gonna go tell-” Crutchie gestured for him to go ahead. Jack jogged up to Davey, who was just about to leave. “I’m hanging out with Crutchie and Race tonight,” he said. “See you when Medda brings meds around?”

Davey nodded. “Yeah, see you then. It’s not like I wanted to hang out with you, anyway.”

“Sure,” Jack said sarcastically. 

He, Crutchie, and Race drove back to their cabin, where they crashed on the couches in the main room. Race put some music on the Bluetooth speaker and they lounged around, catching up from the past week. “So, are you and Davey official now?” Crutchie asked. “And you and Spot?”

Jack shrugged. “I mean, technically, no,” he said. “But we only got together a couple of days ago.”

“We are,” Race said. It actually looked like he was blushing a bit. “I asked Spot if he wanted to be my boyfriend the day after the whole hospital thing.”

The other guys teased Race for a minute, until Jack got serious. “So you guys are for real?” he asked. 

Race nodded. “I like him a lot. Like, I  _ really _ like him a lot.” He coughed, then changed the subject. “What’s this I hear about you staying with Finch all night?” he asked Crutchie. 

“I didn’t,” he said. “I came back last night.”

“Me and Davey were up really late last night,” Jack pointed out. 

“Yeah,” Crutchie added. “I came back  _ later _ . I wasn’t about to stay with Finch- he shares a cabin with the Delanceys.”

“Yeah, we need to talk about this,” Jack said. “What’s going on there? Are you just hanging out, or…”

“Finch found out that I’m trans,” Crutchie said. “I thought I was alone one day last week and I forgot my shirt, so I came out of the shower without one, but Finch was in here on his break. And anyway, he was really cool about it and we had a long talk about… stuff. And we’ve just been hanging out a lot lately.”

“I’ll say again, Finch is straight,” Jack said. “You can totally be friends with him, of course, but I don’t want-”

“Don’t worry about me,” Crutchie said. “I don’t want to say too much but… sometimes people aren’t necessarily as straight as you thought, you know?”

Race snorted. “Don’t I know it.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Dude. You keep saying that, but I don’t know how you ever thought you or Spot were straight. I really don’t think you realize just how gay secretly making out with a guy in the woods for two years is.”

They hung out for a while longer when Jack’s radio sparked on. “Blink to Jack.”

“This is Jack, go ahead.”

“We’ve got a code yellow out by Woodside.”

The Manhattan boys stared at the radio for a minute. “What… general type of code yellow are we talking about?” Jack finally asked.

“Uh… a big yellow schoolbus.” Crutchie clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. They had joked about big yellow schoolbuses the summer before. In layman’s terms, big yellow schoolbus generally meant bear.

“Okay!” Jack said, trying to keep from laughing. “We’ll be there in just a minute!” He looked to his buddies. “We’re going on a bear hunt.”

“Gonna catch a big one,” Race added.

“But  _ I’m _ not afraid!” Crutchie finished, and the three guys cracked up. 

The three of them marched outside onto the golf cart, where Jack and Race sat up front and Crutchie took the backseat, holding his crutch like a baseball bat. The bears near the camp were nothing to worry about. They were black bears, generally fairly small, and just interested in looking for garbage. Generally, they could be chased away by the golf cart. Ideally, they would take a real car, but after Race’s incident, from which he was still recovering, that was no longer an option. From down the road, they could hear yelling.

As they drove toward Woodside, Jack spotted Blink on the road with a flashlight trained down the road. “Did it go that way?” Jack asked as they pulled up next to Blink.

“Yeah,” he said. “Right by the dining hall at this point. I’ve been trying to chase it away from the cabins.”

“We heard,” Race said dryly. “Hop on.” Blink jumped onto the back seat with Crutchie and they took off in the direction of the dining hall. If they could just get the bear into the woods, then they could let it go. 

Outside the dining hall, the kitchen staff were standing around in pajamas, wielding whatever “weapons” they could find. Bill and Darcy both held mops, Henry had a frying pan, and Pie Eater held a wooden stool aloft above his head. A few yards away, a black bear ambled toward the porch where the dining hall trash was kept. “We need to run it to the woods,” Jack yelled, and Blink and Race hopped off the golf cart to chase the bear with the kitchen staff. 

On the count of three, they all started yelling, clapping their hands together, and running (or driving) toward the bear, which in turn sprinted toward the woods, exactly where they wanted it to go. As soon as they were sure the coast is cleared, the guys cheered and exchanged high fives. “What was the bear doing?” Blink asked. “They don't normally come so close to camp.”

“Weisel never came and got the dining hall trash,” Henry replied bitterly. “He's supposed to come take it to the dumpster by admin every night.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Of course. We’ll take it.” He turned to Race. “Do you mind walking back to Manhattan? There won't be room.” Jack and Crutchie loaded the trash bags onto the back of the golf cart, which they each held in place while Jack drove with one hand and Crutchie sat backwards on his seat, hoisting the bags up. Jack was in a bit of a hurry- Medda would be coming around soon with meds for the night, which he needed to be there for. More importantly, though, he wanted to see Davey. 

After they dropped the trash off, they headed back to the cabin, arriving just as Medda did. “I'll be right back,” Jack said, and Crutchie limped inside. He waited by the passenger side of Medda’s car, where Davey met him. “Are you doing bedtimes tonight?” he asked Davey. 

Davey nodded. “Yeah. So I won't be able to come down.”

“Don't worry about it,” Jack said. “I'll come up later. You'll probably have a late night with this group.”

“I thought you were hanging out with the guys tonight.”

“I am,” Jack said with a smirk. “But I don't particularly want to kiss Crutchie or Race. So I'll see you later, when there aren't a bunch of kids staring at you. Wait for me.”

Flushing Hill was a war zone. It took almost two hours and the help of all five counselors to get all of the boys showered and into pajamas, and even longer to get them all into bed. They asked for the light to be left on. But then they wanted it off, because they couldn’t sleep with it on. They needed the fan on, but no! That’s too cold! Turn it down! There was a spider on the wall. Ryan was looking at Joe. Colton kept farting. Ricky needed to pee. Wilson wanted to  _ make sure _ he packed his shoes. (“It’ll just take a minute!” “You literally wore your shoes earlier tonight! You obviously packed them!”) They wanted a bedtime story. They wanted to know what the schedule for tomorrow was. 

Finally David had enough. Specs, Romeo, Albert, and Elmer were going through similar situations in the other cabins. Unbeknownst to them, Jack had come up the hill during all of the commotion and was sitting out on the porch of the cabin, silently shaking with laughter. “That’s it,” David finally snapped. “Heads on pillows  _ now _ . You’ve all gone to the bathroom, you’ve all got everything you need. No more talking. It’s time for sleep.” Not trusting the boys, David stormed over to the door, where he took a seat, cross-legged on the floor. 

Every time one of the boys tried to whisper to the kid in the next bunk, David shushed him. Every time someone tried to get up to “go check something real quick”, David sent him back to bed. Every time a flashlight was turned on, David was there to make sure it got turned back off. Eventually, the cabin grew still and whispers turned to slow breaths, and David tiptoed out of the cabin.

Once he got outside and closed the door, David turned, only to see Jack there, waiting for him. David jumped, almost losing his footing. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Jack said standing to walk down to the narrow road between the cabins. “Took you long enough. Rough night?”

David rolled his eyes and followed Jack down to the path. “Let’s just say it’s the first night and I’ve already decided that if you give me little kids again, I’m breaking up with you.”

“Good to know,” Jack said as he led David to a semi-secluded area where they could still tell if any kids were out of bed, but where the campers couldn’t see them. He and David took a seat on the ground and Jack pulled David in for a kiss.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” David said against Jack’s lips, “But aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with the guys tonight? I don’t want to drag you away from your friends.”

Jack laughed quietly. “Crutchie and Race got into a fight over Mario Kart, so Crutchie’s taking an anger shower and Race went to find Spot. It’s nothing big. Happens all the time. Crutchie’s a sore loser and Race is really annoying when he wins.”

“Crutchie came out to me, you know,” David said.

“Really?” Jack asked. “That’s… awesome, actually. It means he likes you. Which makes things a lot easier because as much as I like you, I don’t think I can be with someone he doesn’t get along with.”

“How did you two meet?”

Jack smiled. “It kind of goes back to- I guess- so, Crutchie was a foster kid,” he said, trying to decide where to begin. “And he was in a lot of homes that weren’t so great, until he got placed with this one family, the Morrises, who are just… amazing. They actually ended up adopting him eventually. But they saw him for who he really is, helped him start transitioning, all that. And part of that was sending him to camp here, on sort of a trial basis. You know- if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay.

“And that same summer, when I was thirteen and Crutchie was twelve, I managed to break my ankle the first week of camp falling off a horse. So me and Crutchie spent pretty much all of our time together hanging out in the art hut or the infirmary while our group was off doing stuff that we couldn’t do at the time, you know?

“And one time, this kid was being really transphobic, and I was about to try to get up to fight him, but I wasn’t so good on crutches yet, but before I could even try to stand up, Crutchie had cracked him right across the shins.” He laughed at the memory, but his face grew serious. “He’s my  _ best _ friend, you know? He’s honestly the best person I know and if I could trade places with him, I would do it in a second because he deserves  _ everything _ .” 

David reached out and took Jack’s hand, with which he had been gesturing wildly as he spoke, but didn’t say anything. David had never really had that. Sure, he had friends. But he didn’t have anyone who he would do anything for like Jack did with Crutchie. And he didn’t really know that he wanted that until hearing Jack talk about Crutchie. “You two are lucky,” David finally said.

Jack nodded. “Yeah. Breaking my ankle was probably one of the best things I ever did, to be honest.”

They talked there in the dark for a while until a cabin door creaked open and two boys came out, flashlights darting nervously into the woods. “What are you doing?” David called, and the boys jumped before realizing that it was him.

“Going to the bathroom,” one of the kids said. “I don’t remember where it is.”

“Okay,” David said, standing up and brushing dirt off of his shorts. “Follow me.” 

 

Jack watched as Davey showed the kids to the bathroom before coming to sit back down. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a washable marker, with which he started absently doodling on Davey’s knee. “What are you doing?” Davey asked.

“Drawing,” Jack replied. “Don’t worry about it.” Davey sat completely still while Jack drew, until there was a whole mountain range across his knee. 

“How can you live in the city?” Davey asked, “If you love mountains so much?”

Jack shrugged. “It’s where I’ve always lived. But… this is my last year here. I’m saving up for a car, so I can move out west.”

“Oh, so this is going to be short lived,” Davey said pensively, pointing between the two of them. 

“What do you mean?” Jack asked in alarm.

Davey shrugged. “Long distance is really hard, and if you’re moving across the country…”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t give up before we’ve even gotten started.”

 

The next couple of days were filled with laundry, crying kids, and scraped knees. A little boy named Mark took a spill on Flushing hill, badly enough that Medda had to take him to the infirmary for almost an hour getting him cleaned up. On Wednesday afternoon, David was taking a much needed break riding around with Jack while he did rounds. Medda was at a training session, leaving Jack in charge, so her huge first aid kit was sitting on David’s lap. 

A message came over the radio just as they finished up checking in on archery. “Blink to Jack.”

“This is Jack, go ahead.”

“We’ve got a possible code blue at the field.” 

“On my way,” Jack said as he whipped the golf cart around to drive toward the field. Code blue was a medical emergency. With Medda gone, and with Pulitzer messing around, it was a really awful time for one.

They made it to the field quickly, where the middle school boys stood in a wide circle around the counselors, who were gathered around a boy on the ground. Jack parked the golf cart as close as he could, grabbed the first aid kit, and ran toward the group, with David just behind.

It didn’t take long for them to realize that the boy on the ground was Les.


	19. Pine Cones and Poison Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happened to Les, and Katherine publishes her blog post.

Les’ face was swelling to an alarming size. “Oh, good,” Blink said upon seeing David. “Is Les allergic to bees?”

“I don’t know,” David said in shock. “I don’t think he’s ever been stung. Sarah and I aren’t.”

Jack was already digging through the first aid kit. He grabbed an instant ice pack, which he popped to activate before handing it off to Ike, who was closest to Les. “Can he take Benadryl?” he asked, already measuring out a generous dose. David nodded. “Les, I need you to take this.” Shakily, Les took the medicine cup and knocked it back, making a face. “Can you breathe okay?” 

“Yeah,” Les said in a small voice. 

“That’s good,” Jack replied. He looked to the counselors gathered there. “You guys go ahead. Me and Davey are going to keep Les with us for a while to monitor him.” Mike and Ike went to herd their group together, and Jack got on the radio. “Jack to Mush,” 

“Go ahead,” Mush said over the radio.

“Can you send a counselor to cover for Davey for a little while? He’s helping me out here.” All of this happened within only a couple of minutes, and pretty soon, Jack had Les in the front seat of the golf cart while David hovered next to him. 

“What happened?” David asked, studying Les’ swollen face.

“I got stung by a bee,” he said, slurring around a swollen lip. “Obviously.”

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” David asked Jack.

Jack shook his head. “No. It looks bad, but he doesn’t have any serious symptoms. You’ll be totally fine, Les.” They sat with him for a long time, monitoring the swelling, which slowly but steadily went down. Soon, he was yawning and struggling to stay awake.

“Benadryl always knocks him out,” David said. They took Les back to the infirmary, where Jack set up a movie in the room that they reserved for sick kids and left Les to take a nap. Once Les was settled in, Jack and David went to sit in the main room of the infirmary. 

“You’re good in a crisis,” David noted.

Jack shrugged. “That wasn’t really a crisis. Like I said, it looks a lot worse than it is. He didn’t go into anaphylaxis or anything. I’ve definitely seen worse. We will have to notify the parents, though, and since the parents are also your parents…” 

“I’ll call,” David said. He found the infirmary phone and punched his mom’s cell phone number in.

“Hello?” his mom said.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Oh, David!” she said. “What number is this?”

“It’s a camp phone. I just needed to tell you that Les got stung by a bee. His face swelled up pretty badly, but we got him some Benadryl and ice and he’s sleeping it off now.”

Mrs. Jacobs went through all the typical concerned mom questions, which David was able to answer with Jack’s help. Just as he was about to end the call, his mom asked if she could speak to Les.

“He’s asleep. And we don’t really let kids call home except in extreme circumstances.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Jacobs said. “Well, keep me updated, okay? I can come get him if he needs anything. I love you, David.”

“Love you too, Mom. Bye.”

“ _ Love you too, Mom _ ,” Jack teased from where he was lounging on the infirmary couch reading a magazine.

“Shut up,” David said, and smacked Jack on the side of the head before sitting down next to him.

Jack sat up then with a groan. “I need to do an incident report,” he said, while getting up to rifle through a file cabinet. He withdrew a form and brought it back to the couch, balancing it on a magazine on his lap. David read over Jack’s shoulder, watching as he filled out the form detailing the bee sting and the treatment. Jack finished up the last question, then passed the form to David. “Sign at the bottom,” he said. “I need a witness.”

David signed and Jack filed the report away. “We just have to have those to cover our asses, just in case,” he said. “To document that we weren’t just neglecting kids.” 

They hung out in the main room for a while, before David started to get a little restless. “You know, he could be asleep for a while,” he said, grinning suggestively at Jack.

“Yeah, he-  _ oh _ . Davey, there’s a camper in the next room,” he said, but leaned toward David anyway.

“It’s just my little brother,” David said. “He’s not going to care.” It didn’t take much more persuasion, and soon enough, David and Jack were taking full advantage of their break on the couch. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice Les walking sleepily into the room.

“Ahem,” Les said, clearing his throat. Jack jumped away from David, turning bright red. “I had to pee,” he said. 

“First door on the right,” Jack said sheepishly, pointing toward the bathroom. Les rolled his eyes, turned, and went to the bathroom. “Shit,” Jack whispered to David who, to his annoyance, was laughing.

“Honestly,” David said after he composed himself. “Not to get into too much detail, but that kid’s seen worse.” Les came out of the bathroom. “If you tell anyone, I tell Dad what really happened to his bike.” 

Les nodded quickly. “Fine! Jeez, Davey. Besides, Jack’s cooler than Sam was. I’m going back to bed.”

“Sam?” Jack asked as soon as Les was gone.

“My ex,” David replied. “Les never liked him.” He hesitated. “While we’re sort of on the subject, I actually wanted to ask you- what is this? Like, what are we?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I know I really like you. Obviously. And I know we haven’t been together for long but if you want to be my boyfriend… I’d be down for that.”

“So romantic,” David joked. “‘If you want to be my boyfriend, I’d be down.’ What, no roses or poetry?”

“I don’t like poetry,” Jack said. “And you literally just brought the subject up so I didn’t have time to stop by the florist’s. If you want, I can go get you a bouquet of pine cones and maybe some poison ivy.”

David made a face. “Ew, no thanks.”

“So that’s a no to the boyfriend thing?”

David leaned in and kissed Jack quickly. “It’s a no to pine cones and poison ivy. But yeah, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

 

On Friday afternoon, David’s parents came up to Flushing to see him when they picked Les up. “Honey, why don’t you come home this weekend?” Mrs. Jacobs asked. “Your Oma’s coming for dinner tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Mom,” David said for what felt like the dozenth time. “I’m busy this weekend.”

He finally got rid of his parents, and Jack got them through the staff meeting quickly. Once they were dismissed, Jack, Davey, Crutchie, and Race met up with Spot. They squeezed into his Jeep and instead of turning onto the highway down the mountain, Spot took a turn on the left, nearly obscured by trees, onto the Camp Willow Lake property. 

The girls camp was clearly carefully maintained by their team of maintenance workers, with perfectly manicured grass and even flower beds lining the road. The cabins were newer and more modern, the facilities were large and carefully cared for, and pretty much everything that could have a mural painted on it,  _ did _ have a mural painted on it. Crutchie read directions to the staff house off of his phone, and Spot drove them deep into the camp. 

Finally, they arrived at what looked like an actual house, rather than a cabin. Katherine and Sarah were sitting in rocking chairs on the porch, and waved when the guys pulled up. “I got the blog post written,” Katherine said once they were all out of the Jeep. “I just wanted to have you guys read over it before I put it live.” She led the way into the couch to a beautifully outfitted living room, where Katherine’s laptop was open to a preview post. 

Crutchie sat in front of the laptop, reading the article out loud to the other guys gathered there. Katherine had highlighted all of Mountain Ridge’s strong points beautifully, waxing poetic about the need for a safe space away from the toxic masculinity of modern society, strong male role models, and outdoor activities. She pulled wholesome pictures from some of the guys’ Facebook pages and Instagrams, and wrote about some of the activities that they do. Sarah had followed through on her promise and got a number of quotes from conservation specialists about the dangers of further development on the lake, including the negative impact that it would have on animals, plants, and even the river that flowed down the mountain into town. 

“That’s fantastic,” Jack said when Crutchie finished reading. “Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll put it up, then!” Katherine said. She skimmed the article one last time to check for typos before hitting the button to send the post. “And now we wait.”

 

When Katherine said that her blog had thousands of readers, she wasn’t kidding. That night, most of the staff gathered at the pool, where some of them swam while others constantly refreshed their phones, watching the view count skyrocket. The post was shared all over the internet by Katherine’s readers, Camp Mountain Ridge alumni, concerned locals who didn’t want construction nearby, and parents. About half of the shares contained personal testimonies from people talking about their camp experiences or their children’s camp experiences. 

On Saturday, Katherine and Jack were called for interviews by several local news outlets. They sat together in the art hut, with a few of the other guys there for support and information, while a reporter asked them questions. “I was a Mountain Ridge boy,” the reporter confided. “Are all the old cabins still there? I remember getting into an epic prank war with the guys in the Harlem cabin.”

“Yeah, they’re all there,” Jack confirmed. “Harlem’s one of the staff cabins now. One of the great things about Mountain Ridge is that it never changes. It’s like it’s frozen. But that’s also a problem. The new director decided not to hire any maintenance staff this year, so the staff- mostly the lifeguards- are responsible for camp upkeep now. It’s hard keeping a camp looking nice when you’re in charge of the safety of kids, you know.”

“That’s a shame,” the reporter said gravely. “I’d hate to see the old camp fall apart.” They finished the interview, and the reporter told them that the story would run on the six o’clock news Sunday night. 

 

Sunday passed as normal, and Pulitzer had no idea that an article about his camp was quickly becoming viral. Specs was pulled away from David’s group to run the CIT program, although he would still be staying in Flushing, and the rest of the Flushing guys were assigned a group of middle school boys, Les included. Jack apologized to David quickly for assigning him that group- apparently there had been an issue with scheduling and coverage- but they were all a little distracted, waiting for what was going to happen that evening. 

Dinner was uneventful, and it wasn’t until the campfire that anything unusual happened. Just before Jack got up to tell the weekly story, Pulitzer pulled him aside. “See me in my office after the campfire. We’ve got to talk.” Jack nodded gravely and caught David’s eye. Just like every week, Jack walked solemnly up to the front of the amphitheater, sat down on the ground, and spoke softly. He had planned on telling a story about a rabbit and the moon, but when he opened his mouth, his favorite story, the story about the creation of the stars, tumbled out instead. 

After the campfire, Jack’s friends gathered around him with the air of a family sending someone off to war. They all offered to come with him to see Pulitzer, but Jack waved them all off. “I don’t want him thinking anything is wrong, or that anyone’s slacking off. I can go alone.” He spoke casually, but they could all tell by the tenseness of his jaw and the way he squared his shoulders that Jack was worried.  _ Really _ worried. 

He gave Race and Crutchie the keys to the golf cart and walked up the big hill to admin, watching the stars on the horizon ahead where they peeked above the mountains. Inside, Weisel and Pulitzer were waiting for Jack, with Katherine’s blog post and the news article printed out on the table in front of them. “Have a seat, Jack,” Pulitzer said quietly. Jack sat down in the empty chair across the desk. “Care to explain this?”

Jack stared down at the papers. “I think it seems pretty obvious,” he said.

“You’re quoted in these articles,” Pulitzer continued. His voice was calm, almost friendly. “Jack Kelly, head counselor, has been spending every summer at Camp Mountain Ridge since he was eight years old. ‘The camp was my home when I didn’t have one. It’s provided a safe place to find yourself for so many kids, and the fact that someone wants to take that away is criminal.’” Pulitzer read slowly off of the paper. “You did say that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Jack said without hesitation. “Because it’s true.”

Weisel sat uncomfortably next to Pulitzer, refusing to meet Jack’s eye. “What makes you think that any of this is true?”

“You haven’t been at camp for very long,” Jack said. “So you may not know this. But secrets are really hard to keep here. Word travels fast.”

“How did you get this writer involved in all of this?” Pulitzer asked, pointing at Katherine’s post. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“She’s an old friend,” Jack replied. 

Pulitzer shook his head. “Well, none of this is true. And you and this girl have publicly slandered me. I’ll expect a formal retraction from her, including a statement from you. You have my permission to leave camp tonight to go and work on that with her.”

“Noted,” Jack grumbled. “Is that all?”

“You’re free to go.” 

 

Jack stormed into Manhattan fifteen minutes later, slamming the door. “What happened?” Crutchie asked worriedly. 

“He wants me to go have Katherine print a retraction,” Jack fumed. “And he wants me to make a statement that what we said wasn’t true.” 

“But you aren’t fired, right?” Race asked, looking up from a Rubik’s cube. 

Jack shook his head. “At least, not now.” He looked helplessly at his friends. “What am I supposed to do?”

Crutchie bit his lip. “Don’t go to Katherine,” he said. “It would get you out of trouble, but you’d be lying and you’re better than that. Plus, we’d be right back where we started.”

“Race?” Jack asked.

Race shook his head. “I don’t know, man. If you get fired over this…”

“Then you guys keep fighting,” Jack finished. “Crutchie’s right. I’m not doing it.”

Davey came down after bedtime, and the four boys talked until well in the night, knowing that tomorrow could spell trouble for Jack when Pulitzer saw that there hadn’t been a retraction. Jack spelled out exact lists of his duties for Crutchie and Race, and told them to bump Specs up for help if he ended up getting fired. “It’s like you’re writing your will,” Race commented dryly. 

“It’s like you’ve already quit,” Davey added bitterly.

“What?” Jack asked.

Davey shrugged. “I mean, you’re acting like getting fired tomorrow is a done deal. You’re sitting here planning what we need to do when you’re gone, but you haven’t said anything about what we should do while you’re still here.” 

“There’s nothing we  _ can _ do,” Jack snapped. 

“Pulitzer’s scared,” Davey replied. “If he wasn’t, he’d just ignore the article. The story’s gaining traction. He’s trying to threaten you into giving up.”

“I could lose my  _ job _ ,” Jack argued. 

“Did he say that?” Davey countered. “Did he specifically say ‘Jack, if you don’t print a retraction, you’re fired’?”

“No, but-”

Davey threw up his hands. “Then stop acting like it’s over! We shouldn’t be planning out who’s going to do rounds after you get fired. We should be planning our next move.”

“And what is our next move, oh powerful leader?” Jack asked sarcastically.

“We meet with the board- in person. We need to explain to them firsthand what’s going on.” 

“You said yourself that for enough money, people will do anything. Why would they listen to us?”

Davey rolled his eyes. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But it’s a whole lot better than sitting around in here complaining.”

 

The next morning at breakfast, Pulitzer eyed Jack threateningly, but didn’t approach him. The mood was somber as the counselors waited for what they all suspected was coming. Davey sat down next to Jack, as usual. “Come with us on the waterfall hike after breakfast,” he said. 

“Davey, I-” Jack started quietly, but Davey cut him off with a shake of his head. 

“Just buy yourself a little more time.”

“Okay,” Jack replied. As breakfast ended, Jack ran back to Manhattan to change into swim trunks before meeting Davey, Romeo, and Spot with their campers by the entrance to the waterfall stairs near Manhattan. 

The waterfall hike wasn’t much of a hike, really. They climbed down a long, steep flight of stairs to the river, through which they walked upstream to the base of the waterfall, where the boys could swim in the natural pool formed there. They walked in a single file line with Spot leading the way, Romeo in the middle of the group, and Jack and Davey bringing up the back. Les walked near Davey with his new friends and, although he didn’t ask, he could tell that something was wrong with his older brother. 

Jack did his best to ignore the situation at hand, though, and he splashed around in the river with the boys, joking and pretending that he didn’t know how to swim. Davey watched from the sideline near where Spot was lifeguarding, and Les sidled up to him. “Are you okay?” Les asked, shaking water from his dripping hair.

“Yeah,” Davey replied distractedly. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is it about that article Sarah’s girlfriend posted this weekend?”

Davey ripped his eyes away from the river. “Sarah has a girlfriend?” he asked. “You know what, no. We’re not talking about this right now.”

 

While they were swimming, Crutchie was in the art hut, mixing dyes for tie-dye. He didn’t have a group in the first activity block that day, so he was using the time for prep. The dyes came in bulk in powdered form, so Crutchie had to mix them up and divide the different colors into squeeze bottles. It was an easy process, but it took a while, because everything had to be measured out.

As he carefully scooped blue dye into a bottle, the door of the art hut opened and Pulitzer strolled in, casually. Crutchie was pretty sure that it was the first time that he had ever seen Pulitzer in the art hut. “Hey, Mr. Pulitzer,” he said congenially from his spot by the sink. 

“Good morning, Crutchie,” Pulitzer said pleasantly. “What are you doing?”

“Mixing tie-dye,” Crutchie said, holding up the bottle in his hand, which was already stained blue. “Mush’s group is coming in at ten, so I need to be ready for them.”

“By all means, don’t let me stop you.” Pulitzer strolled around the room slowly, looking through the various drawers and cabinets at the meticulously organized and labelled supplies. Crutchie, who was immensely aware of Pulitzer there, worked quickly, mixing the dyes less carefully than he normally would. By the time he finished, the green was a little bit weak, the yellow was so dark that it was basically orange, and his hands were mottled with colors. Self-consciously, he lined the bottles up neatly by color and washed his hands, although most of the dye didn’t come off.

Pulitzer took a seat at one of the tables and gestured for Crutchie to do the same. “I don’t like liars,” Pulitzer started, sliding a file folder across the table.

Silence fell across the room as they both stared at the folder. Finally, Crutchie found his voice. “Where did you get that?” he asked. “You can’t have that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't totally decided yet, but there may not be a new chapter tomorrow. I might just post a bonus scene that I cut a while ago. Sorry!


	20. Joe's a jerk, he's a rattlesnake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happened to Crutchie. Spot and Pulitzer face off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: TW for transphobia in this chapter. If you're at all uncomfortable reading this, please let me know and I would be happy to provide you with a summary. My tumblr is timetogoslumming.   
> As a disclaimer, I am a cisgender person and I have tackled this issue because it's real and it's important, but I also realize that it's a very sensitive subject so I hope that I have done it justice. I realize that I don't know everything and if you would like to discuss things further, I'd be happy to do so.

“Mush to Crutchie.”

Silence.

“Mush to Crutchie.”

Silence.

“Mush to Jack or Race.”

“Go for Race.”

“Do you know where Crutchie is? My group’s supposed to be in the art hut right about now and he’s not here.”

“This is Jack. Race, go down to the art hut and get them started. I’ll go find Crutchie.”

Jack was just coming up the steps from the waterfall hike when Mush started calling for Crutchie, who was always on time. “I’ve got to go,” he said to the counselors there, hopping into the golf cart and driving off toward Manhattan to change into dry clothes and look for Crutchie. 

He passed Race on the way, who was going to cut through the shortcut through the woods to the art hut. “They’re doing tie-dye- you can handle that, right?” Jack called to Race, who had never been great at arts and crafts. Race flashed him a thumbs up before disappearing down a path into the woods. 

Jack pulled into his spot in front of Manhattan and went inside. “Crutchie?” he called. “You here?” There was no answer. Jack opened the door and walked into their bedroom, and could tell immediately that something was wrong, although it took him a moment to figure out what, specifically, it was. The left side of the room was untouched. Jack’s bed was still unmade, his rain jacket was hanging on the hook, his shoes were still scattered across the floor.

The right side of the room was completely bare. 

There were no sheets on the mattress, no extra crutch leaned against the wall, no pile of laundry in the corner. All of Crutchie’s stuff was gone. 

Jack froze, shivering slightly because of his wet shorts. His head was spinning and he couldn’t look away from the bare mattress. Finally, he grabbed a pair of dirty shorts from his laundry basket and changed so quickly that he almost lost his balance and ran back out to the golf cart. 

He drove toward the art hut, stomping the pedal into the floorboard, but it just felt like it was absolutely crawling. “Jack to Race,” he snapped into the radio as he drove.

“Go for Race.”

“Meet me outside the art hut. Mush can handle tie-dye. I need help.”

Race was waiting outside when Jack arrived, and Jack hardly even stopped long enough for him to get on. “What’s going on?” Race asked.

“Crutchie’s gone,” Jack said through clenched teeth.

“ _ What _ ?”

“All of his stuff is completely cleared out of Manhattan.”

Race cursed loudly. “We’re going to fight Pulitzer, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Good.”

 

Together, Race and Jack burst into admin, where Pulitzer was leaning back in his chair, talking on the phone. “Pulitzer!” Jack yelled upon opening the door.

“I- hang on,” Pulitzer said before putting a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “I’m on the phone,” he whispered.

“Hang up,” Race demanded. 

“I will talk to you boys at lunch,” Pulitzer said with the air of a father scolding a child.

Race reached across the phone and pressed the call button, ending the call. “There. Now you’re free. What the fuck, Pulitzer? Where’s Crutchie?”

“That was an important call, Race,” Pulitzer said dangerously. He put the phone back on its cradle, though, and sat up to talk to them. “After learning some disturbing information, I had no choice but to let Crutchie go.”

“What information?” Jack snapped. 

Pulitzer sighed. “Apparently, he has been stealing from the art hut all summer. I think you can understand why I can’t keep a thief on my staff.”

“That’s bullshit!” Jack yelled. “Crutchie doesn’t steal!”

“Watch your language if you value your job. I understand your frustration, Jack,” Pulitzer said. “I didn’t want to believe it, either. But after a thorough inventory of the art hut, it was obviously the truth.”

Race launched into a tirade, which Jack tuned out as he thought things through. After a minutes, Jack held up a hand to stop Race. “This is because of the article, isn’t it?” Jack asked quietly. “It’s because I didn’t print the retraction.”

“It’s certainly an unlucky coincidence, but no. The two incidents are in no way related.”

Jack shook his head. “Yeah, they are. You’re trying to get back at me. It’s not going to work. I’m still not going to lie.”

Pulitzer folded his hands on the desk. “I hope you two realize just how replaceable the two of you are. Remember that the next time you try to drag my name through the mud. It’s time you learned a little respect. Now, get going. I have several phone calls to make.”

“This isn’t over,” Jack spat, and he and Race stormed out. 

 

As soon as they were in the golf cart, Race had his phone out. “Let’s go to the art hut,” he said. “Maybe Crutchie texted one of us.”

Jack shook his head. “Mush’s group will still be there. We can go to the pool.” Jack drove them to the pool, where there were no kids and Spot was alone, reading a book. 

“Hey,” Spot said, barely looking up from his book. “What’s up?”

“Crutchie’s been fired,” Race blurted, and Spot dropped his book.

As soon as he was seated, Jack turned his phone on, checking for texts. After just a few seconds, a long message popped into his inbox from Crutchie. “I got a text from Crutchie!”

_ “PULITZER FIRED ME. _ ” the message read. “ _ I’m in the car with Weisel now. He’s driving me to the train station. He came into the art hut and was like ‘I don’t like liars’ and then he started talking about how I’ve been stealing from the art hut (which you KNOW I haven’t) and how I’m lying about my gender! I don’t know how he found out that I’m trans but he had my whole medical file, which only Medda is supposed to have access to. Jack, you’ve got to take this guy down. I don’t even know what to do, and Weisel’s just awkwardly staring at the road. I don’t know how he knows. But I didn’t steal, and I didn’t lie. _ ”

By the time Jack finished reading the text, he was shaking so hard that reading was more difficult than usual. Race had his head in his hands and Spot looked absolutely murderous. None of them said anything for a minute, until Jack unleashed a long, creative, and colorful stream of furious profanities. Finally, he grabbed his radio and barked into it as calmly as he could. “Jack to Finch.”

After a couple of seconds, Finch answered. “This is Finch, go ahead.”

“I need you to come to the pool. Now.”

“I’m just finishing up with mucking stalls. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Jack shook his head. “The stalls can wait.”

“Okay,” Finch said, sounding confused. “I’ll be right there.”

“You think Finch told?” Spot asked.

Jack nodded gravely. “He’s the last person to find out.”

“Technically, Davey was the last to find out,” Race pointed out.

“Davey didn’t tell,” Jack said through gritted teeth. He handed his phone to Race as he stood up. “Can you…” Race took the phone wordlessly and started typing out a response to Crutchie as Jack paced the length of the picnic shelter. 

Within five minutes, Finch made his way up the hill to the pool, looking confused. As soon as he was within reach, Jack launched himself at Finch. In the same moment, Race And Spot were up, grabbing Jack by the arms to hold him back. “How fucking  _ dare _ you?” Jack yelled.

“Jack, stop!” Race yelled over him as he continued to struggle. But Spot was all muscle, and Race, though lanky, was deceptively strong, so Jack couldn’t get away.

“What are you talking about?” Finch asked quickly, eyes wide.

“You know  _ exactly _ what I’m talking about,” Jack snarled. “You outed Crutchie.”

Finch froze. “What? No. No, I didn’t,” he almost seemed to be pleading. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I hope you’re happy! Crutchie got fired!” Jack continued to struggle against his friends’ grips. “He trusted you, and you got him fired!”

Finch looked crushed. “I didn’t know,” he said weakly. “I swear, I didn’t tell anyone. I  _ like _ Crutchie. Like, I  _ like _ him. I would never-”

“Then who did?” Jack demanded furiously. 

Race shot Spot a look, and Spot took over the job of holding Jack back, pinning both of his arms around his back easily. Jack was still struggling, although significantly less so. “Don’t you think it’s possible that someone else could have known?” Race asked in a placating tone.

“If you think Davey-”

“No, not Davey,” Race interrupted. “But someone else could have found out, somehow.”

“Jack, we’ve been friends for three years,” Finch said. “You’ve got to believe me.”

Jack finally stopped struggling against Spot’s grip. “Are you going to attack someone if I let you go?” Spot asked.

Jack shook his head sullenly. “Not Finch,” he said, and Spot released him. Slowly, Jack took a seat on the picnic table bench, shoulders hunched. “This is my fault,” he said. “If I had just done what Pulitzer wanted, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

“And then none of us would have jobs,” Race pointed out. 

Jack was silent for a long time. “I need to be alone,” he finally said. He stood and walked off by himself down the trail through the woods, leaving Spot, Race, and Finch alone, awkwardly staring at the ground.

“I’ve got a group coming to the pool in five,” Spot finally mumbled. 

 

Jack didn’t show up for lunch. Race pulled counselors aside one by one at lunch, explaining that Crutchie had been wrongfully fired. He didn’t explain why to anyone but David, to avoid outing Crutchie to anyone else. “Shit,” David said quietly after Race explained the situation. “I’ve got to go find him. Cover for me?”

David wandered the camp, checking the art hut, followed by Manhattan, before finally following a hunch up Flushing hill toward the observation deck. When David reached the top, only slightly winded, he found Jack at the edge of the observation deck, legs dangling off the side, arms crossed over the railing. “Hey,” David said quietly as he came to sit by Jack. 

Jack didn’t look at David, he just buried his face in his arms. David just reached out and rubbed Jack’s back gently. “Race told me,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” Jack said something, but it was muffled by his arms. “What?”

“It’s my fault,” he repeated, turning to face David. He had clearly been crying. David scooted closer and pulled Jack to his chest, holding him close. 

 

Back in the dining hall, Pulitzer made a rare appearance. All of the staff, with the exception of the Delancey brothers, glared at him murderously. Pulitzer surveyed the scene before approaching Spot, who was sitting in his normal spot next to Race. “Spot, I want to discuss a new activity with you,” Pulitzer said conversationally.

“Oh,  _ do you _ ?” Spot asked, rolling his eyes.

“Yes,” Pulitzer said, ignoring Spot’s tone. “I was thinking that it would be fun for the campers if you had them go canoeing at night.”

“No,” Spot replied point-blank. “That’s an awful idea.”

Pulitzer’s glance flitted around the tables at the campers listening in. “Speak with me by the coffee bar.” Spot stood abruptly and followed Pulitzer. He was a full head shorter than Pulitzer but something in his stance made him seem huge. “I don’t appreciate you going against me in front of the campers, Spot.”

Spot shrugged and crossed his arms. “Okay. Night canoeing is a bad idea and as aquatics director, I can’t let it happen.”

“How would it be a bad idea?” Pulitzer asked calmly.

Spot counted off the reasons on his fingers. “One. It’s dark and there are no lights out by the lake. Two. It’s the beginning of the week and only one group has even been canoeing in the daylight. Three. We won’t be able to see what’s going on. Someone could drown. Or end up at the other camp. Or in the woods. And we’d have no idea. Do I really need to keep going?”

Pulitzer shook his head. “Use all of your lifeguards. Take flashlights. But make it happen. Tonight. You can have the high school boys go. I’m not arguing about this with you.”

“Fine,” Spot snapped. “No more arguing. Got it.” He stormed back his seat, where he bit into his veggie burger viciously. 

“You good?” Race asked softly.

“Great,” Spot said with his mouthful. 

 

That night just after dark, Spot and Race waited at the canoe shed together while the counselors got their campers ready for bed. “You really think he was serious?” Race asked.

Spot nodded grimly. “He seriously wants to see me send a bunch of kids out onto a dark lake. It’s a power play. I’m not doing it, Race.”

“Good,” Race said as he took Spot’s hand. 

They sat there in the dark together, waiting, until Pulitzer’s truck pulled up, headlights illuminating the area. Pulitzer took his time getting out of the truck, and finally made his way over to Spot, who extracted his hand and stood, drawing himself to his full height. “Spot,” Pulitzer said. “Why am I not surprised that you disobeyed me? I thought we agreed not to argue about this.”

“I’m not arguing,” Spot said calmly. “I’m telling you. I’m not putting these kids in danger.”

Pulitzer pursed his lips and the two of them faced each other like a standoff. “I have a lot to consider regarding your position,” he finally said. “You’re meant to be a leader.”

“He answers to me!” Race interjected. They both looked to him in surprise. “The aquatics director reports to the program director. I told him not to do it.”

“No, he didn’t,” Spot said. “I’m not doing it, Pulitzer. It’s my decision, and I say no.”

“We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

As soon as Pulitzer was out of sight, Spot spun to face Race and groaned. “I’m going to get fired, aren’t I?”

Race shook his head. “Not if I have anything to say about it. But even if you are, I’m not gonna lie. That was incredibly sexy.” He bridged the gap between the two of them and grabbed Spot’s face, kissing him fiercely. 


	21. The allegations are false!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys execute a new plan to take Pulitzer down.

That night, Specs had his CIT group put the middle school boys to bed, leaving David free to meet up with Jack, Race, Spot, and Finch in the art hut. Race and Spot explained what happened with Pulitzer and night canoeing, and Jack shook his head slowly. “He’s just trying to find excuses to get rid of people now,” he said. 

Finch looked up from a notebook, where he was scribbling something. “So, I really think Crutchie should sue,” he said. “Technically, it is legal here to fire someone based on their gender identity, but it’s still wrong.”

The other guys agreed wholeheartedly, but David bit his lip. “I agree that it’s wrong,” he said slowly. “But I can’t help but think that Pulitzer would  _ want  _ a lawsuit.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked sharply.

“I mean, Crutchie wouldn’t be suing Pulitzer,” David explained. “He’d be suing the camp. And if the camp loses, it’ll cost them a lot of money. Even if the camp wins, they’ll probably hire some expensive lawyer and still be out a ton of money.”

“So he’s got us where he wants us,” Race said defeatedly. 

They were all quiet for a moment, pondering that. “Regardless,” Finch finally said. “He should still sue. This is wrong. It’s about more than the camp now.”

“You’re right,” Jack said quietly. 

“We could have Katherine do another blog post,” Spot suggested. “With Crutchie’s permission, explaining what really happened.”

“Get some LGBT groups involved,” Race added. 

Jack nodded and sent a text to Crutchie, asking for his permission. “ _ It’s fine,”  _ Crutchie replied. “ _ I think I’m ready to talk about it _ .” He had gone back to his parents’ house, where they were appropriately outraged and had already considered the option of suing. 

Jack send another text off to Katherine, asking for her time to write another post. It took a few minutes before she responded, but a text came through soon. “ _ Meet me at the main road outside camp tomorrow at 10 am. Just walk up there. Bring whoever- I’ve got four seats open in my car. I have a better idea. Just trust me, okay? _ ” 

They decided that Davey, Jack, Race, and Spot would go. The CITs could cover for Davey in his absence and Specs could do Jack and Race’s jobs for the time being. Just as they were adjusting the schedule, Oscar and Morris Delancey walked in. “What do you want?” Spot asked bitterly. 

“Just checking to see where Finch went,” Oscar said conversationally. “He didn’t come back to the cabin.”

“I’m right here, Mom,” Finch retorted.

“We heard what happened to Crutchie,” Morris said with a grin. “What a shame. But Pulitzer had to take out the trash.”

Race put a warning hand on Jack’s shoulder, who had immediately tensed up, ready to strike. “Get out of here,” Race said angrily.

Oscar shrugged. “Suit yourself. But I’d think about packing my suitcase if I were you guys.”

David watched the gleeful expressions on the Delancey’s faces as his eyes narrowed. “You stole Crutchie’s file, didn’t you?” he finally asked. 

“Is it really stealing?” Oscar asked casually. “After all, everything on camp property belongs to the camp. If it ends up on the director’s desk, it still hasn’t left camp.”

“Get out,” Jack said dangerously.

“Make us.”

Spot stood up from his seat and approached the Delancey’s slowly. They watched nervously as he loomed in front of them. Finally, Spot lunged out and grabbed them both by the shirt collars. “Don’t ever talk to me again,” he said before literally dragging the two of them out of the art hut and locking them out. 

He calmly walked back to his seat and sat back down. “I thought you were about to hit them,” Race said as the Delancey’s walked back down toward their cabin.

“Thought about it,” Spot replied. “Since I’m already about to get fired. But I don’t need assault charges on top of that.”

 

The next morning, they confirmed that the middle school boys would have coverage and Jack and Race gave Specs a list of things that needed to be done while they were gone. “Where are you going?” Les asked David quietly as he got ready to leave.

“Don’t worry about it,” David replied. “Just  _ please _ don’t give the CITs any trouble. I’m serious, Les.”

“Okay, okay,” the younger boy said defensively. 

The four people meeting Katherine gathered by the bottom of the pool hill, ready to walk to the main road. They needed to avoid being seen by Pulitzer, Weisel, or the Delanceys, so they cut through the woods in many places. It was a pretty long walk, but once they got past admin, they were in the clear. 

The walk took longer than expected, so they didn’t get out to the road until 10:05, and Katherine was already there, with her car pulled over and idling by the side of the road. “It’s about time,” she said as the boys piled into her car. 

“Sorry,” Jack said. “We were trying not to get caught. Spot’s probably getting fired later, so we needed to get him past admin.”

“What did Spot do?” Katherine asked, glancing in the rearview mirror, where Spot was smashed between Race and David. They explained the night canoeing incident, and Katherine shook her head. “You guys are right,” she said. “He’s going to keep firing people until one of you issues a retraction. I’m supposed to be taking the post down today, either way.”

“He’s been in touch with you?” David asked from the back seat.

Katherine pursed her lips. “Yeah,” she replied slowly, driving down the road toward the highway. “Because, uh… he’s kind of my dad.”

A stunned silence fell over the car. “ _ What _ are you talking about?” Jack asked. “I’ve met your dad, and it wasn’t him.”

“You’ve met my  _ stepdad _ ,” Katherine corrected. “Who may as well be my dad.”

“Your last name is Plumber,” Jack said dully. 

Katherine nodded. “My mom’s maiden name. She and my father- my biological one, that is- never got married.”

Jack shook his head quickly. “We dated for six months, Katherine. We’ve been friends for  _ years _ . How did this never come up?”

“We’re not close,” Katherine said defensively. “He didn’t have anything to do with me for years! It was never relevant! I’ve told you about my real dad- the guy who raised me. That’s all that really matters.”

“So when you found out that he was the camp director, you just thought it was irrelevant?” Race asked.

Katherine shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was just trying to avoid him. I had no idea he was going to do all this.”

“Where are you taking us?” David asked.

Katherine sighed, clearly glad that the topic of conversation had changed. “I got us an appointment with the board,” she said. “We did this all wrong. We should have gone to them immediately, rather than going behind Joe’s back. You’ve got to plead your case- tell them what happened to Crutchie and what’s apparently going to happen to Spot, according to you.”

 

They made their way into town, where the board’s camp office was situated deep in the heart of an office complex. As they made their way inside past a bunch of people in suits and business casual attire, the boys felt underdressed in their tank tops, shorts, and camp stubble grazing their faces. Katherine was at least wearing a nice pair of shorts and a flattering tshirt. 

She made her way to the receptionist at the front desk. “Katherine Plumber here for a meeting with the Camp Mountain Ridge board.” The receptionist signed Katherine in and gestured for the five of them to have a seat in the waiting area. They waited impatiently, with Jack shaking his leg and Race rhythmically tapping his fingers against Spot’s forearm. 

Finally, they were called back to a conference room, where a group of six older people were waiting expectantly. “Hello,” an older man with a thick mustache said. “With whom do we have the pleasure of meeting?”

They each took a seat, going through their names one by one.

“Katherine Plumber.”

“Jack Kelly.”

“David Jacobs.”

“Antonio Higgins.”

“Sean Conlon.”

The moustache man nodded. “My name is Thomas Roosevelt, head of the camp board. I’m familiar with Katherine and Jack’s work- I read the blog post that the two of you circulated.”

“Good,” Jack said. “Then you already know part of what’s going on. We know that the Delancey construction company is trying to buy the camp with Pulitzer’s investment. But you can’t let that happen.”

“Jack,” Roosevelt said. “It’s a very complicated issue. The camp isn’t what it once was.”

Jack shook his head. “No, it’s actually doing great. Pulitzer’s trying to make it look like it’s failing. He’s encouraging the staff to blow the budget. And we think he’s trying to encourage incidents at camp. Tell them, Spot.”

Spot recounted quickly the situation with night canoeing. “Night canoeing?” a woman on the board echoed. “That’s not an approved activity. What did you say your position at the camp is?”

“Aquatics director and head lifeguard,” Spot replied. “I told Pulitzer that it wasn’t safe, and I refused to do it.”

“Well, that’s certainly concerning,” the woman said. “But it could be a simple mistake. We’ll just have to make sure that Mr. Pulitzer is aware of what activities are and are not approved by the safety guidelines. He’s new to this position, and should be given the benefit of the doubt.”

“It’s not just that,” Jack said quickly. “Yesterday, the art director, Crutchie- Charlie Morris- was unfairly fired.”

A man at the table nodded. “We’re aware of that situation. It’s unfortunate- Charlie has always had an almost perfect record in the past- but we can’t condone his behavior.”

“What did Pulitzer say he did?” Race asked. “Did he say he was stealing from the art hut? Because that’s a lie.”

Jack nodded. “He was fired because he’s transgender,” he continued. “The Delancey brothers stole his medical file out of the infirmary and gave it to Pulitzer.” The members of the board fidgeted uncomfortably. 

“If that’s true…” Roosevelt said, “that violates our strict non-discrimination policy. But it’s your word against Mr. Pulitzer’s.”

Jack bit his lip. “You said that Crutchie’s file was almost perfect. Didn’t you? Does that mean you have access to old disciplinary records?” He took their silence as a yes. “Look back to when he was a camper. Crutchie got written up for fighting. He hit Morris Delancey with his crutch after Morris made a transphobic comment.”

“I didn’t know that was Morris,” David whispered to Jack, who nodded grimly. 

The members of the board whispered among themselves while Roosevelt looked something up on a laptop. After a while, they took it in turns to ask questions about Pulitzer and the conditions of the camp, which the boys answered honestly.

Finally, Roosevelt nodded. “These allegations are very serious,” he said. “If any of this turns out to be true, there will be serious consequences for those involved. We’ll come to the camp this afternoon and start an investigation. Do your jobs as usual. We’ll let you know if you need to answer any questions. Now, get back to work.”

 

They made it back to camp by the middle of lunch, and filled the other guys in through stolen whispers in the dining hall. 

 

Around two o’clock, Roosevelt and a few other members of the board arrived.

 

Around two thirty, they started questioning the barn staff about Morris’ effectiveness as equestrian director.

 

Around three, the lifeguards were pulled aside in turn to discuss Spot’s work.

 

Around three thirty, Race was approached to discuss the work of the program leaders, including Oscar, Crutchie, Morris, and Spot.

 

At four o’clock, the board disappeared into the infirmary for a long talk with Medda.

 

At five o’clock, the board went back to admin, where they stayed for the rest of the evening.

 

All day, the Mountain Ridge staff watched nervously as people were called in and out of meetings and the board inspected the upkeep of the camp. Dinner was tense, as counselors did their best to entertain campers while also keeping an eye on the door. The Delanceys were absent. 

David was grateful to be at a table with Bumlets and Itey, the CITs, who were distracting the campers. “How old do you think I am?” Bumlets asked a little boy.

“I don’t know,” the boy replied. “Like, thirty?”

“Hang on,” David said, snapping out of his reverie. “I’m older than these two. How old do you think  _ I  _ am?”

The little boy studied David for a minute over a plate of mashed potatoes. “Fifty-two.” Bumlets and Itey erupted into laughter. 

 

A similar conversation was happening three tables away, where Spot and Race had found themselves at a table of little kids. “How old are you?” one of the kids asked Spot.

“Twenty,” Spot replied, spearing a bit of salad onto his fork. 

“Oh,” the boy said. “Are you married, and do you have kids?” Spot shook his head while swallowing. “Why not?” the kid asked.

“Because I’m too young for that,” Spot replied before shoveling another bite into his mouth. 

“My parents had me when they were eighteen, and that’s younger than twenty,” the boy argued. “Were they too young?”

Spot almost choked. Race slapped him on the back a few times, barely holding back his laughter. “I just… don’t think…  _ I’m _ ready for that,” Spot choked out after recovering. “But that’s just me?”

 

After dinner, the counselors all agreed to an all-camp movie night in the lodge. After the day they had had, they all felt like they deserved an easy night. They shuffled the kids across camp after cleaning up the dining hall, where they crowded onto the floor of the lodge to watch a Disney movie. 

Just after the movie got started, Roosevelt came to the door of the lodge. He looked around the room and, finding Jack, beckoned Jack outside. 

They were outside for a long time- so long that David could hardly take it anymore. He waited nervously for almost an hour, until finally, Jack came back inside, looking shell-shocked. He motioned for David and Race to follow him into the kitchen, where he sat down at the table, white as a sheet.

“What happened?” Race asked immediately. 

Jack looked like his was choosing his words very carefully. “Weisel confessed,” he finally said. “He told them everything. And then he resigned. Crutchie’s coming back.” 

“ _ Yes _ !” Race said, a little too loudly. Jack nodded with a small smile, but was still completely pale.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” David asked. 

“They’re firing Pulitzer and the Delanceys,” Jack said weakly. “And they asked me to act as director for the rest of the summer.” David and Race’s jaws dropped simultaneously. “That’s still not all,” Jack continued. “They offered me a full time job as camp director. Not just this summer.”


	22. Star Spangled Hammered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack announces the plan for the rest of the summer and Blink throws a 4th of July party.

“What?” Race yelped. “That’s amazing!”

Jack nodded slowly. “Yeah. It is. I guess. But I had planned on moving out west and-”

“This place has everything you wanted from Santa Fe,” David interjected. “You wanted room to breathe. You’ve got it here. You wanted to get away from a city. Guess what? Santa Fe is one of the biggest cities in New Mexico. And you  _ love _ this camp. Jack, I’m sorry, but you’d be stupid to turn it down.”

 

On Friday afternoon, Jack stood up at the staff meeting with a paper in hand. “Okay, guys. Thanks for this week. It’s been crazy and you all really stepped up when stuff got weird. So, uh, I guess I should go over some staffing changes. I was offered the job of camp director for the rest of the summer, with the option to stretch that into a year-round, full time position.” A murmur rumbled through the room when Jack paused. “And I’ve decided to take it.” The guys in the room cheered, and Davey grinned widely. 

“So, uh, for the rest of the changes,” Jack said awkwardly. “Crutchie’s going to be back starting on Sunday, still as art director. Finch, you’ll be equestrian director. Specs- head counselor. Since we’re halfway through the summer, I don’t want to bother with hiring a new archery coach or assistant director. If you’re doing archery, just have me, Race, or Specs lead it. And I’m just going to need you all to help me out with assistant director stuff. We’re also hiring our old maintenance guys, Doug and Kirby, back. Lifeguards don’t need to be out mowing grass.

“I just want to remind everyone of the non-discrimination policy. Zero tolerance. If you hear something, you report it, got it?” Jack grinned. “I also want to say thanks to all of you. I honestly couldn’t do any of this without you guys. So… meeting officially over.” He clapped his hands together once and Blink jumped up.

“Okay! Now that we’re done- fourth of July party at my place Saturday night!” he said. “The theme is ‘star spangled hammered’.” 

 

The group dispersed after getting the details regarding Blink’s party, but Davey held back with Jack. “I knew it,” he smirked. “They dangled this camp right in front of you like a carrot and you  _ had _ to take it.”

Jack pulled Davey in close for a kiss. “Well, there were a few other reasons why it sounded so good,” he said after they pulled apart.

“Oh?” Davey asked, slightly dazed by Jack’s closeness.

Jack counted on his fingers. “One. My boyfriend made a lot of sense with what he said about Santa Fe. Two. I was offered a  _ very generous  _ salary. Three. The director’s cabin will be mine, and I can go make out with the boyfriend I mentioned whenever I want there.”

“Four,” Davey added. “You love it here too much.” 

“That too,” Jack said. 

 

On Saturday, they all made their way to the party. Katherine and Sarah picked David and Jack up, and the four of them went on a double date to an Italian restaurant. They had a great time until about halfway through the meal when Katherine said conversationally, “So, Jack. How does it feel knowing that you’ve made out with everyone at this table?” Jack choked on a breadstick, and David glared at Katherine, who was smirking. 

“Never say that again,” Sarah said, refusing to make eye contact with David. 

 

At Blink’s house, Race and Spot were among the first people there. They had gone back to Race’s house for the weekend to celebrate his younger sister’s sixteenth birthday, and to officially introduce Spot as Race’s boyfriend. Spot, who wasn’t much of a family person, had felt incredibly awkward by the whole situation until Race’s mom hugged him tightly and force fed him two slices of cake. Spot had been raised by a single dad, and Race’s family was huge, Italian, and happy. “That wasn’t so awful, was it?” Race asked as Spot pulled up to Blink’s house. “I mean, I know my family’s kind of intense, but they really did like you!”

“Race,” Spot said, cutting him off. “They were… great. Seriously. Honestly, I’m pretty sure your mom is the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

Race grinned. “She’s pretty great,” he said, before leaning across the center console and kissing Spot softly. “Thanks for coming,” he finally said. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Spot replied. He and Race had been getting more and more serious as the summer progressed, and Spot finally felt ready to tell Race that he loved him. He was just waiting for the right moment. Spot pulled Race back in for another kiss and they stayed in the car for a long time, making out, until JoJo knocked on the window, startling them apart. 

“Break it up!” JoJo yelled through the window. They made their way into the house, where the party was ramping up. As per the theme, everyone was dressed in their fourth of July finest. A group of Camp Willow Lake counselors were wearing matching Rosie the Riveter costumes, a few people had painted their faces with red, white, and blue face paint, and there were flags everywhere. 

Race wore his American flag swim trunks and “Back to Back World War Champs” t-shirt, but Spot had refused to dress up. 

“I’m wearing red,” he had argued, gesturing to his t-shirt. 

“That’s not enough!” Race insisted. “At least borrow something of mine!”

“No one should have this much American flag stuff,” Spot had yelled, gesturing to Race’s pile of patriotic wear back at Race’s family’s house. 

Just after they arrived, Jack and Davey showed up, wearing matching American flag bandanas tied across their foreheads- Jack’s idea. “Yooo!” Race yelled. 

Jack grinned. He and Race started up a chant, which soon spread to the entire house. “USA! USA! USA!” 

“Who am I dating?” Davey asked Spot, who was cracking open a beer.

“You don’t even know how bad they can get on the fourth,” Spot said, rolling his eyes as Jack and Race led the chant. The mood was infectious, though, and after a while (and a shot) Davey and Spot were in with everyone else, chanting along.

Race ran by, grabbing Spot’s hand and dragging him to the beer pong table. “You’re up, Davey,” Race yelled.

“Wh-”

“We’re playing,” Jack explained, leading Davey to the table.

“I don’t know how,” Davey said.

“Throw the balls in the cups. That’s it,” Spot replied sarcastically. 

Race easily sank the first shot, and Jack turned to Davey. “Davey,” he asked sweetly. “Are we friends?”

Davey rolled his eyes. “You’re my boyfriend, so I guess you could say that,” he replied.

“I have to be a responsible camp director tomorrow so I need you to take one for the team and drink for me.”

Davey fished the ping pong ball out of the solo cup in front of him and knocked the small amount of beer in the cup back, making a face. “ _ Only _ because you have to be a real adult tomorrow,” he said. “You owe me.” Jack turned out to be abysmally bad at beer pong, almost as bad as Spot, but Davey shocked everyone by being pretty good. Nowhere near as good as Race, but enough to give their opponents a run for their money. 

Spot, Race, and Davey grew perpetually more and more drunk until Davey was practically hanging all over Jack. “Another game?” Race asked when they finished their third match.

“I think we’re going to take a break,” Jack said, gently pushing Davey, who was trying to kiss his neck, away. Jack dragged Davey out to the deck for some fresh air. “You’re a handsy drunk, aren’t you?” he asked.

“No,” Davey insisted. “I just really like you and I think you’re really hot.”

Jack laughed, slinging an arm around Davey’s shoulders. “I don’t know how I ever thought you were straight.”

 

Inside, Race and Spot were goaded into a game of Smoke and Fire by Romeo, Specs, Dutchy, and Sarah. Normally, with his understanding of probability, Race was annoyingly good at the game, but he found himself on a losing streak, and Spot ended up doing pretty well. After yet another wrong guess, Race was handed a shot. It wasn’t that Race was unusually drunk, but the shot sat wrong and he could feel it coming back up almost immediately. Race sprinted outside to the front yard, where he threw up into a bush.

Spot waited right behind him, holding a water bottle that he grabbed on the way out, which he handed to Race. “You good?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Race said, taking a long drink of water. “It just went down wrong.” 

Spot grinned, then felt the words tumbling out of his mouth in his own form of vomit. “I love you,” he said gruffly. “By the way.”

Race’s eyes darted up to meet Spot’s, and he slowly lowered the water bottle. “Me puking in a bush made you want to tell me that?”

Spot shrugged. “Guess so,” he said tensely. 

Race grinned. “I love you, too,” he replied.

“No homo,” they said simultaneously, before bursting into laughter.

 

The party raged on for a while longer, and the counselors gathered out in the backyard to watch fireworks being shot off from the nearby park. Just as the finale was starting, Crutchie limped into the backyard and tapped Jack on the shoulder. Jack spun around and grabbed Crutchie into a bone-crushing hug, knocking his crutch to the ground. “I took an Uber here,” Crutchie laughed. “I couldn’t miss the party.”

Within moments, the other counselors gathered around Crutchie, ignoring the fireworks completely, all talking at once. Someone handed him a beer, someone else handed him his crutch. Off to the side, Jack could see Finch waiting. As soon as there was a free moment, Finch gestured for Crutchie to follow him somewhere more private. 

 

The next morning, David woke up in an unfamiliar bed. He looked around blearily, aware of a throbbing headache, and spotted a glass of water and two painkillers on the bedside table. David shakily took the medicine and slowly stood up. He could feel his hair sticking up on one side of his head. “Jack?” he called out tentatively. 

After just a few seconds, Jack popped his head through the door. “Oh, good. You’re up,” he said, looking stressed. 

“Where are we?” David asked.

“Director’s cabin,” Jack explained.

“Why?”

Jack crossed the room and kissed David quickly. “Because it’s mine now. And because Crutchie had a  _ visitor _ in our room last night and I didn’t really want to get in the middle of that.”

“I don’t remember leaving the party.” 

Jack laughed. “That’s because you fell asleep. Me, Spot, and Specs basically carried you in here. Now come on. I made breakfast.”

Jack led David into an open kitchen and living room area, where the smell of bacon and eggs permeated the room. David helped himself to some food and brought his plate over to where Jack had resumed digging through a box of what looked like memorabilia. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Jack continued sifting through the box. “This is a bunch of old camp stuff. It used to be hung up all over the place, but I guess Pulitzer took it all down. I’m looking for a picture that used to be in the dining hall.” They sat in silence for a while as David ate and Jack looked through the pictures, laughing occasionally at one that he remembered. Finally he withdrew a dusty, framed picture. “Here we go!”

David leaned over to look at the picture, which showed five teenage boys standing together with canoe paddles, which they held like swords, grinning ferociously into the camera. It only took a second to identify the boys, and David smiled along with Jack as they looked into the faces of a young Jack, Crutchie, Specs, Race, and Mush. “I was fifteen there,” Jack said. Race, Specs, and Mush all had braces glinting in the sunlight, Jack’s face was spotted with acne, and Crutchie was wearing clothes about three sizes too big. As awkward and different as they all looked, it felt to David like he had known those boys his entire life.

 

The pictures were gradually hung back up around the camp, followed by new pictures from that summer, crafts from the art hut, and an old camp flag that Blink found hidden in the handyman cabin. But that first group picture, along with a picture of the same guys as adults, hung in a place of honor above the camp director’s desk for years to come.

 

_ the end. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys. Oh, my god. Thank you so much for all the support that I’ve gotten on this little summer camp AU. I had no idea that people would actually read this, and I definitely didn’t expect to get so much love on it. I had so much fun writing this- going back to my camp days was really therapeutic and nostalgic for me, and I’ve had so much fun with it. A lot of these stories were based on real life events (it’s been three years and I’m still #salty about night canoeing) that meant a lot to me, and I’m so honored that people were able to find something in those stories to connect with.  
> Thank you so much to the people who read, commented, and discussed Camp Mountain Ridge. Thank you to the people who made fanart, to the people who made mood boards, and to the people who just supported me and my lil story.  
> This is the end of the story as a whole, but there are a lot of scenes that were either cut out or that I didn’t get around to writing, for a variety of reasons- especially timing and relevance. I’ll probably slowly release those under a separate work on this account (and on my tumblr) so keep an eye out for those. It’s definitely not going to be a daily thing, though. Ya gurl needs a break.  
> If you’re interested, my Tumblr is timetogoslumming, and you’re totally welcome to follow me there.


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